The Best Laid Plans
by MaryRoyale
Summary: Ginny's determination to keep Ron and Hermione together has unexpected results. Time Travel, Unusual Pairing or should we say 'grouping' suggested by Terrence Rogue. Fabian/Hermione/Gideon
1. The Plan

_A/N:_ _This was suggested by Terrence Rogue who thought it might be interesting to see a story that involved Fabian and/or Gideon Prewett and Hermione Granger due to the fact that they are a very rare grouping. It will, of necessity, be a time travel fic because really people, we don't have enough of those. So there are a few things that we need to get clear in the beginning that aren't necessary for other characters. Little is known of the Prewett family, except that they are pureblood and related to the Blacks by marriage. That's it. We have no idea who Molly's parents are, or if she had other siblings aside from Fabian and Gideon. We have no idea when Fabian and Gideon's birthdays are, or if they are, in fact, twins. There is no information about whether or not they were older or younger than Molly, although I think we can safely assume that they were older than the Marauders. The only actual facts we have for them are a) they were members of the Order and b) it took five Death Eaters to take them out (implying that they were powerful wizards). In the movie version of OotP, they had James and Oliver Phelps (Fred and George, if you didn't know) pose as Fabian and Gideon in the picture of the original order so we're going to pretend that this means Fabian and Gideon are twins. (I swear to Merlin, I do not have a twin fetish.) _

_So, right. This story shall take place mostly in the past starting in 1979 and moving on from there. That way we've got the fabulous Prewett twins AND Marauder love, and what could be better than that?_

February 10, 2000

"We need to help Hermione," Ginny said, a look of purpose in her eyes. Lavender and Parvati looked back at Ginny doubtfully.

"I don't know Ginny," Lavender said slowly. "Hermione seems pretty happy to me."

"No," Ginny said determinedly. "She's absolutely miserable. She just doesn't realize it. That's what's so tragic about it all. She's going to be single on Valentine's Day, and you don't want that for her, do you?"

"Well, no," Parvati said thoughtfully. "She deserves to be happy."

"Right, and the _only_ way for her to be happy, is to be with my brother Ron," Ginny said triumphantly. Lavender and Parvati exchanged glances.

"But, Ginny, they fight…_all the time_. Honestly, Hermione seems much happier since their latest break-up," Lavender said slowly, frowning.

"It's just a front she's putting up to cover up all the agony she's feeling," Ginny said sharply. Parvati didn't think Hermione was in all that much agony. She seemed really happy. No, Parvati suspected that the major problem that Ginny had was that Hermione was currently living with Harry, and the both of them seemed in no hurry whatsoever to change that anytime soon.

"What exactly are you proposing to do about it?" Lavender asked cautiously. Ginny smiled sweetly at Lavender who felt strangely uneasy.

"A spell to help her find happiness," Ginny said with a firm nod. Parvati shook her head.

"That's rather vague, Ginny," Parvati said sternly. "I would be happier helping on a spell that was supposed to unite her with her soul mate, or something like that. Otherwise, it's like you want to force her to be with Ron whether she really wants to be with him, or not."

"Oh, fine," Ginny huffed and waved a hand. "Let's help her find her soul mate, or whatever."

"Right," Lavender said, frowning and looking at Parvati with worry. Parvati shrugged.

"Did you have a spell in mind, Ginny?" Parvati asked. Ginny smiled again.

"I do, but we have to figure out how to get Hermione to say it," she said excitedly.

"I don't know," Lavender said with a frown. "That doesn't seem like the sort of thing that Hermione would just do."

"Yes, but if we get her completely hammered, she might," Ginny said as though this were the most brilliant plan ever. Lavender and Parvati exchanged another glance.

"Well, if it will make Hermione happy…then, okay," Parvati said finally. Ginny grinned triumphantly.

February 11, 2000

Number 12 Grimmauld Place

The library was cozy and comfortable after Harry had remodeled it. It had large overstuffed couches and chairs scattered throughout. The new carpet was thick and plush, and the wallpaper had all been redone. Harry thought the new color scheme of Gryffindor crimson and gold went well with the rich, dark wood and he rather thought that Padfoot would have approved. Four girls were currently lounging on various pieces of furniture, in various states of drunkenness. Ginny wasn't drunk at all because she'd been drinking apple juice disguised as firewhiskey. Hermione was very, very drunk because Ginny had increased the alcoholic content of her firewhiskey with a charm she'd gotten from Fred and George.

"So wait," Hermione said, weaving slightly and giggling. "You want me to find my-my soul mate? Merlin's beard, Ginny, you don't believe in that shite, do you?"

"It's not shite!" Lavender protested vehemently. The other girls looked at her in surprise. "Well, it's not."

"Oh, Lavender, really," Hermione snorted, and then started giggling again. "There's one perfect match out there for each little witch? If she just hopes and dreams enough, he'll come along and sweep her up in his big, strong, manly arms? What utter tripe!"

"Then there's no harm in you saying this little spell, now is there?" Ginny said firmly, shoving the parchment at Hermione who squinted at it, mouthing the words to herself and giggling.

"Oh, Merlin! You guys, listen to this shite: 'I call on your power, Godess of love. Down from the heavens, Descend from above.' Who writes this crap? 'I ask for your help, To find the right one…', wait a tic, what if it's more than one? What if my soul mate is really soul mates? There should be something in here for that. I mean, what if I'm meant to be with Puddlemere United or something?" Hermione leaned over and asked Lavender who rolled her eyes. Ginny frowned.

"Keep reading, Hermione," she said sharply. Hermione blew a raspberry at her.

"Keep your knickers on, Gin," she said tartly and turned back to the parchment. "'I ask for your help, To find the right one or Quidditch team, as the case may be'. Don't look like that, Ginny! I'm just covering my options here! 'Send me to my soul mate (or soul mates or Quidditch team)' Loosen up, Ginny!, 'With the power of the sun'. Right. What a load of rubbish."

"So mote it be," intoned the other three girls. There was a loud crack, similar to the sound that house elves make when they apparate, and the space where Hermione used to be was empty. They all blinked at one another.

"Where did she go?" Parvati asked, with a worried frown. Ginny smiled triumphantly.

"Isn't it obvious? She's been sent to Ron! Oh, this is brilliant! He'll be so pleased," Ginny gushed. Lavender frowned.

"Don't you mean _she'll_ be so pleased? I mean, the whole point of this was to make Hermione happy, right?" Lavender asked sharply. Ginny waved a hand.

"Of course. _She'll _ be thrilled when she realizes that her soul mate has been in front of her this whole time!" Ginny was giddy with success. So giddy, that when Harry wandered in, and asked where Hermione was, she told him.

"You did _what_?" Harry demanded, shocked. He insisted on flooing the Burrow, and when he was told by a surprised Ron that no, Hermione was _not_ there, he began to panic. "What the hell, Ginny? You just decided to vanish Hermione? Was she in your way or something?" The look on Ginny's face said it all. Harry paled. "Merlin's beard…she was wasn't she? Bloody hell, what have you done? Have you killed her or something? Get the hell out of my house, and don't bother to come back, I'm changing the wards."

"But," Ginny tried. Harry was passed all reason at that point and practically threw her out the door. He paced his empty house and stared at the wall.

"Where are you, Hermione?" he whispered. _Please be safe. Please don't be dead._

February 11, 1979

Secret Order of the Phoenix Meeting

The meeting was in full swing, and Fabian and Gideon Prewett were listening with half an ear. Dumbledore was a good guy, but he tended to be all mysterious and hope that that was good enough for everybody. Currently a screaming match was taking place between McKinnon and Moody. Fabian rolled his eyes at his brother, and Gideon nodded. Sitting near them were the new kids: Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew, a bunch of recent inductees. It irritated the piss out of all four males to be referred to as kids, so of course the Prewett twins called them that every chance they got. It made the meetings go by slightly faster. Gideon rolled his shoulders, and his back popped. Fabian sighed heavily.

**CRACK!**

A figure fell onto the floor in the middle of the room. It looked smallish, and female-ish. It groaned.

"Bloody fucking hell," it cursed in a decidedly feminine voice. The Prewett twins sat up. Those nearest the figure had their wands out, as she sat up. She pushed wild curls out of her face and stared at them for a minute. "I don't believe it! Wait, you lot don't look like Puddlemere United. In fact, you look like…oh, _shit_!"

"She appears to have fainted," Moody observed darkly, staring down at the woman who was lying on the floor.

"She also appears to have the mouth of a sailor," Lily sniffed self-righteously. Fabian and Gideon snorted. They got up and moved toward the unconscious woman. She looked as though she were dressed for bed. She was wearing sweats and a Quidditch jersey.

"Oi! Kiddos, this girl's wearing a Gryffindor jersey. Any of you lot recognize her?" Fabian called out. The four boys glared darkly at him, and stalked over. They frowned.

"No," James Potter said with a shrug. "Never seen her before."

"Really, Potter?" Moody asked curiously. He was crouched down by the girl and had lifted her shoulder high enough that it was possible to see 'Potter' emblazoned on her back. James blushed and shook his head.

"Honestly, sir. I've never seen _her_ before in my entire life. Guys?" He turned to his friends. They also shook their heads. The young woman groaned and Fabian and Gideon crouched down by her face. Her lashed fluttered up; revealing hazel eyes with threads of gold that made a man want to swim in them.

"Fred? George?" She muttered, blinking. "I am _so_ going to kill your sister. Wait a minute…boys did you do something to your eyes?"

"Nope, love," Fabian said with a cheeky grin. "But it's Fabian, not Fred. He's shorter and drools a bit."

"Not funny, Fred. I feel like I've been pulled through a wringer backwards," she moaned, her hand coming up to her head. She turned to look at Gideon and paled dramatically. "George…how come you've got two ears?"

"It's Gideon, love, and why wouldn't I have two ears? Don't most people?" He asked dryly. She snorted.

"Is this prank Hermione night? You do remember that I give just as good as I get, and you two are going to be begging for mercy," she said tartly. Fabian and Gideon grinned even wider.

"Excellent."

"Ooh. Don't do the stereo surround sound thing just now. I think your sister got me drunk on purpose," she accused. The twins blinked at her.

"Why would Molly want to get you drunk?" Fabian asked in surprise. The young woman sat up, and stared hard at both men.

"You're _not_ Fred and George," she said softly, her face paling dramatically. They frowned at her.

"No, thought we established that. We're a lot taller and able to walk and talk and all that." Gideon said with a wry smile.

"Sweet Circe's lacy pink knickers," she whispered. She looked up at the people surrounding her, all of whom were dead in her time and swallowed.

"Why are you wearing my Quidditch jersey?" James demanded suddenly. Hermione blinked at him and snorted.

"Isn't yours," she said flatly.

"Well, love, it does say Potter, and he's the only one we've got," Gideon said reasonably.

"It's a seeker's jersey, isn't it?" she snapped. "So it isn't yours, is it?"

"How do you know I'm not a seeker?" James demanded. She snorted again.

"You were a Chaser," she said flatly. He frowned at her.

"How do you know that?" he asked sharply. She sighed in irritation.

"Look. I've just been dumped here, I have no idea how to get home, and I've got a bloody raging headache. So can someone just side-along me to the Leaky or something?" Hermione snapped.

"How do we know we can trust her?" Peter Pettigrew asked cautiously. She snarled at him.

"That's fucking rich, coming from _you_," she snapped. She stood up, and moved toward a wall. With her back to the room she started to take of her Quidditch jersey.

"Um," Lily started to say something, but Sirius clapped his hand over her mouth. She glared at him and he grinned back at her. Hermione slid off her jersey, and held her hair out of the way. Emblazoned over her back was a phoenix tattoo, and because it was a magical tattoo, it began to preen for its audience. She looked over her shoulder at them.

"I've shown you mine," she sneered at Peter, sliding on her jersey. "Now you show me yours."

"Wha-what do you mean?" he whispered. Hermione glared at him, and he was frozen in place with a silent, wandless _immobulus_. She stalked over to him and wrenched up his left sleeve. The Dark Mark stood out luridly on his pale flesh.

"Now can I go?" She snapped, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. Everyone was staring at her, and then staring at Peter, and then staring at her. Fabian and Gideon looked at one another and frowned.

"You thought _we_ were Fred and George," Gideon said slowly, watching her carefully. She sighed.

"Well, I was disoriented," she groused. "Obviously, you're not. I mean, you've got blue eyes, and, um, Gideon? Well, he's got both ears. And really, you both look a bit different. Maybe a bit more like Bill. Although that could be the hair."

"Wow," Fabian said softly, staring at her with wide eyes.

"What he said," Gideon said, and sat down heavily in a chair.

"What's she talking about?" Moody asked Fabian sharply. The Prewett twins looked up at him in consternation.

"She thought_ we_ were our twin nephews who, by the way, aren't even one year old yet," Gideon said carefully, looking Moody in the eye.

"How did this happen, my dear," Dumbledore asked her kindly. Hermione tried to repress a shudder. It was really creepy being in a room with a bunch of dead people.

"Well, Ginny, my former friend, is responsible, I think," she said uncertainly, tugging anxiously on her jersey. "She's having a really hard time accepting the fact that her brother and I are _never_ going to work out."

"I don't understand how that brought you _here_," Moody said with a frown. She shrugged.

"It was some stupid spell. She knew I'd never do it sober so she…OH! Oh, that little…I am _really_ going to kill her," Hermione was muttering to herself.

"_What_ spell?" Marlene McKinnon demanded in frustration, her cheeks pink. Hermione blushed furiously.

"It…it was stupid," Hermione said finally. "It was this dumb soul mate spell thing. I told her it would never work, and, er, I may have altered it a bit."

"You didn't!" Dorcas Meadows gasped in horror. Hermione glared at her.

"Well, it's stupid! The idea that there's one perfect guy out there just _waiting_ to come along and swoop me up is laughable. So…I…er…I may have said soul mate or soul mates or Quidditch team," Hermione confessed, her cheeks a brilliant pink.

"Well that explains the bit about Puddlemere United," Benjy Fenwick muttered. Fabian choked on a laugh, and Gideon coughed suspiciously.

"Wait a minute, so somebody _here_ is supposed to be your _soul mate_?" Remus Lupin's voice rose almost a full octave.

"If it's Pettigrew, I demand a refund," she snapped, glaring at the traitor.

"Yes, but, er, how are you supposed to know who it is?" Marlene McKinnon asked her, looking around at everyone. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on! It was a stupid, ridiculous idea, and it backfired in a big way. No one here is my soul mate, I'm sure," Hermione said confidently. Dorcas Meadows frowned, and looked at Moody and Dumbledore.

"How are we supposed to help her get home?" She asked curiously. "I mean, can she even get home? Or, to her time, or whatever?"

"That is a very interesting question," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure if she can."

"Oh, swell," Hermione muttered darkly.

"Well, to be sure time travel is a very tricky thing," Emmeline Vance said thoughtfully.

"And it depends on the parameters of the spell," Benjy Fenwick offered from his seat.

"Well the parameters were just to deliver up my soul mate/Quidditch team," Hermione said with a shrug. "That was it, end of spell."

"But, there's no real way to reverse _that_," Benjy said with a frown.

"And if you did try to send her to the future, it might be some sort of altered future where she's some sort of slave, or…or dead, or something," Dorcas pointed out.

"When you put it like that," Hermione looked guiltily toward Pettigrew, and then looked at Dorcas. "Is there some sort of girls' dormitory for the Order?"

"What do you guys do in the future?" Dorcas asked curiously. Hermione gave a low, throaty chuckle, and pointed to Sirius.

"We all hang out at his mum's place," she smirked. Sirius turned red and then white and looked as though he were having some sort of fit. "I've got my own room and everything. Harry's redone the library in Gryffindor crimson and gold. Kreacher grumbled a bit at first, but as long as we don't touch Regulus' room, he's fine."

"The Order is located at my _mother's _house?" Sirius asked with wide eyes. Moody and Dumbledore frowned.

"The Order is still needed then?" Dumbledore asked gravely. Hermione shrugged.

"It's been officially disbanded, but Harry let's anyone from the Order or the DA who needs a place to crash stay there," she said matter-of-factly.

"Who is Harry?" asked several people all at once.

"Er," Hermione frowned slightly. She nibbled on her lower lip for several long minutes. "He's…um…Sirius' godson."

"But he lives at my mother's house and he's redecorated the library?" Sirius asked, in an obvious state of confusion.

"Yes," Hermione said firmly.

"Where am I?" Sirius asked, even more confused. Hermione swallowed nervously.

"I don't think you want me to answer that," she said finally, not meeting his eyes, and preferring to glare some more at Pettigrew.

"This is all very confusing," Alice Longbottom said with a frown. She sat down carefully. "If you need a place to stay, we have plenty of room, but you'll have to put up with my mother-in-law."

"Ooh, Mrs. Longbottom? Excellent!" Hermione said with a genuine smile. Everyone in the room who was acquainted with Augusta Longbottom stared at Hermione as though she were certifiably insane. She frowned. "What?"

"You know my mother?" Frank asked curiously. Hermione nodded.

"Of course, she fought with us at the—um, never mind," she muttered. Frank was goggling at her.

"My mother…fought…with you?" Frank said faintly. Hermione nodded again.

"One badass witch, too," Hermione said fondly. "I'd have her at my back any day of the week."

"I think I have a headache," Dorcas murmured, rubbing her temples.

"What are we going to do with, er, what is your name again, miss?" Benjy Fenwick asked the Order at large. Hermione frowned.

"It's Hermione, and no one's going to _do_ anything with me," she said sharply.

"Yes, but," Benjy began and Moody slashed his hand at him. He frowned at her.

"Would you be willing to help us?" Moody asked gruffly. Hermione nodded.

"Of course I would. I've got information that you lot don't. Important information." Hermione said seriously, her eyes narrowing on Moody's face. He nodded and turned to Dumbledore.

"I say we let her stay and help us," Moody said firmly. "We can't even offer her the chance to go home."

"I'm not sure," Dumbledore said gravely, frowning slightly as he watched Hermione. "This could cause ripple effects that we might not be able to determine."

"Mmm, yes," Hermione said coldly. "Like saving thousands of lives. That truly would be awful."

"It's bad out there, Dumbledore, you have to admit that. She could be our secret weapon," Fabian said, with a cheeky grin for the feisty little witch.

"I'll second that," Gideon said firmly, with a wink for Hermione. She blinked at both of them, and then turned to Moody.

"Sir?" She asked, showing him more respect than she'd showed anyone else in the room. He nodded once, and she glanced at Pettigrew. "I won't talk while he's here."

"Longbottom?" Moody turned to Frank and Alice who stood and nodded.

"We'll take him in," Frank said firmly. Then he turned to Hermione. "Wait till we get back, yeah?"

_A/N: So, I hope this is sort of what Terrence was thinking of…not that there's much Fabian/Gideon action as of yet, but we have to set the framework, yeah?_ _If not, I can scrap it. :D_


	2. Explaining Things

_A/N: Okay, so when I write it helps to have more than one project. That way when I'm stuck on one, I can work on something else for a bit. I even prefer it if the projects are as different as possible because it allows me to completely shift gears. Thank you every body for the feedback. I am working on another story too, and so I'm trying to update them at the same time. That forces me to not neglect the other story…that's my plan anyway._

_Now I apologize for this next bit, but the reviewer was a guest, and I can't PM them. _

_**Juicylover09**: Wow. I'm honored. Thank you for suggesting it. I'm truly tempted because fanfiction's restrictions are getting to be really annoying. I'm actively trying to figure out where to post future stories. What am I willing to write about? Oh, honey. I like Hermione because she's a strong female character, so she's my go-to-girl. I'm willing to read and/or write her with almost anyone. I enjoy polyamorous/polyfidelitous stories—especially if they attempt to address the realities of the relationships in between all the fabulous sex scenes. Not Voldemort because I insist that the major love interest have a nose. And I admit that Hermione/Arthur has a major squick factor for me. _

Standing around in a room, waiting to spill her guts about the future had not been on Hermione's list that night. Sleep had been on there. Maybe some girl bonding. Definitely _not_ traveling to the past to hang out with a bunch of dead people. Although at the moment, they all seemed pretty alive, which was giving the whole evening a sort of surreal quality that unnerved her slightly. Especially when you added in the fact that two of the dead people seemed to be sort of flirting with her. The Marauders were sort of huddled in on each other, which she understood since they'd just lost a friend. They probably weren't feeling all that friendly about her, and she couldn't blame them. They'd known Peter Pettigrew for _nine years_, been dorm mates with him, and she just dropped out of the sky and turned their whole world upside down. Perhaps she might have been more subtle if she weren't still fairly buzzed off the alcohol she'd had that night. Perhaps not. She was watching Dumbledore out of the corner of her eye. It wasn't that she didn't trust him…she just didn't completely trust him. Maybe it was the whole 'let's not tell this poor orphan kid that he's really an accidental horcrux, and that I'm setting him up—via this elaborate ruse—so that he'll kill himself for the greater good'.

"That's a very serious looking face."

"Mmm. Must be thinking very deep thoughts."

"Do you know how weird it is for me to look at you two," she asked curiously, turning to look at the Prewett twins. They were both tall and incredibly handsome, with leaner frames similar to Bill, but they had broader shoulders. Their hair was a darker red than the Weasley twins, again more like Bill, and they had eyes that were a deep, dark blue. Just watching them made her heart beat a little faster in confused appreciation. She'd never felt this attracted to any of the Weasley boys. It was weird. They grinned at her. "Like that. Those naughty boy smiles are _so_ Fred and George, but you don't quite look like them. It's just….it's odd."

"So how close are you with our nephews?" They asked with identical frowns. She smirked. That sounded almost…jealous.

"Which ones?" She asked dryly.

"All of them." One of them said firmly. She thought it was Fabian.

"Well, Bill's a lot older than I am, so I don't hang out with him much, but he's always been nice to me. Charlie's in Romania, so I hardly ever see him, but he's a total teddy bear. Percy never wanted anything to do with us. Fred and George have always been well…Fred and George, but for the most part they've been supportive, protective…good friends, I guess. Ron…well…we tried to make a go of it, but it just wasn't meant to be," she said as diplomatically as she could. Their frowns became a little more pronounced.

"So…you dated then?" That was Gideon. She hid a smile.

"I suppose you could call it that," she muttered. They both just looked at her, and she sighed. "Ron and I were friends for a very long time, we were in the same year and the same house. When we got older…he made it clear that he liked me and I just sort of went along with it. I mean, I was this quiet bookworm, and it wasn't like I had to beat the boys off with a stick."

"Pull the other one then." That was Fabian for sure. He was rolling his eyes at her. Gideon looked just as disbelieving. It made her stomach flutter oddly, that these two men, who honestly were rather scrummy, couldn't believe that men weren't after her.

"Erm, I was sort of busy, and Ron was the only guy readily available that I knew well enough to feel comfortable around? Oh!" Hermione clapped a hand over her own mouth. She didn't really say that, did she? They smiled smugly at her, and she felt fluttery again.

"Now, that, we might believe," Gideon said thoughtfully.

"Busy how?" Moody asked, approaching their group. Hermione bit her lip. Just then the Longbottoms returned. She stood up, squared her shoulder unconsciously, and began to pace.

"Right," she said firmly, chewing her lip and furrowing her brow in thought. "There are just a few teensy weensy things you need to know. Well, Pettigrew you know about now. So that's one less."

"How did you know about him?" James asked in a subdued voice. Hermione didn't realize it, but the look on her face spoke volumes. It was pained, and wary, but finally resolve won out.

"He betrayed Harry's parents," she said finally. "He was made an orphan before his second birthday."

"That's how he came to live at my mother's house?" Sirius asked uncertainly. Hermione shook her head.

"No, that came much later, but it's how I know that Pettigrew was a traitor," Hermione said firmly.

"You said you were busy," Moody said flatly. "You look like you're barely out of Hogwarts. What were you doing?"

"Fighting," she said in a hard voice.

"We don't induct children into the Order," Dedalus Diggle said in a shocked voice. She snorted.

"Funnily enough, the Death Eaters don't give a fuck. They still tried their best to kill us," she snapped. "When the adults didn't do a damn thing to protect us, we took matters into our own hands."

"What does that mean?" Dorcas Meadows asked quietly, her face grave and pale. Bitterness twisted Hermione's features for a moment making her look much older than her years.

"We weren't being taught Defense Against the Dark Arts," she said in a low, hard voice. "The Ministry was afraid we'd rebel, or something. We were only being taught theory, no practicum. So Harry started a secret DADA group. We met in the room of requirement, and I used the Protean Charm on a bunch of fake galleons so everyone would know when to meet."

"How old were you?" Benjy Fenwick asked, concerned. Hermione's face tightened for a second.

"Fifth year," she muttered.

"What's the room of requirement?" Frank Longbottom asked in confusion. A flicker of amusement shone in Hermione's eyes.

"It's a room at Hogwarts that will appear when the user has need of it, and it will try to fulfill all of the user's requirements, excluding Gamp's exceptions, of course," she said fondly, thinking of Neville and his band of freedom fighters who'd made it their base camp.

"So Death Eaters have taken to attacking children?" Moody pressed her, frowning slightly. Hermione frowned back.

"It's not like they're overflowing with compunction and morals," she said slowly, and her eyes went flat and hard. "We're talking about a group of people who like to torture human beings for fun. Hell, they attack children now as far as I know."

Fabian and Gideon frowned at one another. If they didn't know any better, and they didn't, they would hazard a bet that she'd been tortured at some point. Fabian shifted in his seat. He'd known this woman for a matter of hours, but the idea that someone had _tortured her_, upset him. He knew by the look on his twin's face that he was thinking the same thing. He felt protective of her, and he didn't even know her. She was tiny, but she had attitude and power. Anyone who got along with Augusta Longbottom would have to be a strong woman. It didn't hurt that she was beautiful: masses of wild brown curls, those whiskey-colored eyes, and that delicate face. Soft lips that were begging to be kissed, and a firm little chin that told him she was probably stubborn. The Quidditch jersey and the sweats didn't really accentuate anything, but he could tell that she had ample curves where it counted. He grinned to himself, and Gideon elbowed him sharply and shot him a look. _Stop drooling over her, and pay attention!_ He flushed and sat up.

"Really, the most important things that you all need to know are pretty simple. First of all, Lord Voldemort is really a half-blood with major issues named Tom Marvolo Riddle," Hermione said flatly, her arms wrapped around her middle in a protective gesture.

"Riddle's not a wizarding name," Gideon said with a slight frown. Hermione nodded.

"Hence him being a half-blood. His mother was a Gaunt," she explained. Her nose scrunched for a second, and Gideon thought she was adorable. "I think maybe because he was an orphan, he put a lot of significance on important cultural touchstones of wizarding culture. Through the Gaunts he was a direct lineal descendent of Salazar Slytherin, and I think he may have found his heritage endorsed by his sorting into Slytherin house. He chose to prove that heritage by opening the Chamber of Secrets, for which poor Hagrid was blamed and punished. Riddle would continue to seek these connections to wizarding culture throughout his career."

"You sound like a bloody textbook," Sirius muttered under his breath. Hermione's eyes narrowed on him briefly, then she turned her attention back to Moody who was frowning.

"Why is his heritage significant?" Moody asked sharply. Hermione gifted him with a tight smile.

"Riddle decided to use our common cultural heritage for his own ends," she said carefully, trying to watch both Moody and Dumbledore at the same time. "He created Horcruxes, seven of them, and most were made out of important artifacts."

"He made _Horcruxes_? _Seven_ of them?" Moody sounded faint. Dumbledore was frowning to himself, and she thought she saw him mouth 'seven' to himself.

"Yes, but it's important to understand Riddle's pathological need to belong to the wizarding world, to the exclusion of his muggle heritage. At this time, he's only got five made, which is good, but I'm not sure where all of them are right now, which is not so good," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"_Only_ five Horcruxes?" Sirius said faintly, a horrified look on his face. "Do you even know what kind of magic we're talking about? This is the most foul sort of magic possible."

"Yes, I'm well aware," Hermione said almost coldly.

"What did he choose to make them out of?" Frank Longbottom asked almost against his better judgment. Hermione frowned slightly.

"You must understand that I have seen all of Voldemort's Horcruxes, and I helped destroy most of them," she said slowly, cautiously. "These aren't a joke, they really do exist."

"What are they?" Benjy Fenwick asked with a frown. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Two of them are Slytherin related, and they were family heirlooms that belonged to the Gaunts. One was a Gaunt ring that had come down through the Peverells," her gaze flicked to James Potter who's eyes widened in surprise. "The other was a locket that came down from Salazar himself."

"You seem to be remarkably acquainted with our bloodlines for a muggleborn," James observed carefully. Hermione shrugged.

"Let us just say that if I had an ancient family heirloom, _I_ would never let it leave my possession. Not even for an elder that I respected greatly. Especially not if I had Peverell blood running through my veins," she observed to the room at large while she looked away from James Potter. He blinked in surprise, and glanced at Sirius.

"What's so unbelievable about a ring and a locket?" Dedalus Diggle asked in confusion. Hermione looked at Moody again. He was one of the only people in the room she really trusted.

"The Gaunt ring held a Peverell family heirloom…," Hermione began to explain, when Dumbledore gasped softly. Her eyes narrowed on him, and she turned back to Moody. "which many people refer to as the Resurrection Stone, or one of the Deathly Hallows."

"Ha! See, Remus, I _told you_ they were real. You owe me a galleon!" Sirius said with a bark of laughter.

"Ridiculous!" Marlene McKinnon was snorting in derision. Remus was nodding in agreement. "Fairy tales for gullible idiots!"

"I would have agreed with you," Hermione said with a bittersweet smile. "If I hadn't seen them with my own eyes."

"Them? You've seen the Deathly Hallows?" Dumbledore asked avidly. Hermione's eyes were cold when she looked at him. Her gaze strayed to his wand, and then back up to his face.

"Yes," she replied.

"What are the other Horcruxes?" Moody asked sharply, not willing to let the meeting go to some sort of rhapsodizing about the bloody Deathly Hallows.

"A cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, a diary that belonged to Tom Riddle as a student at Hogwarts…and the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw," she muttered the last bit.

"The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw?" Benjy Fenwick's voice rose in disbelief. "It's been lost for centuries! How did he find it?"

"The Grey Lady is Rowena's daughter," Hermione said quietly, looking at her hands for a moment. "She stole it, and she told Tom Riddle where she'd hidden it. She had no idea what he'd do with the information eventually."

"Do you have any idea where these items currently are?" Moody asked her. She bit her lower lip and frowned in concentration.

"What's the exact date?" She asked curiously.

"February 11, 1979." Moody waited impatiently.

"I think…I think he started hiding them this year," she mused aloud. "I know that the diary ends up with Lucius Malfoy, the Cup ends up in the LeStrange Vault at Gringott's, the ring is hidden at the old Gaunt place, and the necklace is hidden in a secret cave. I know the necklace is hidden very soon."

"How do you know that?" Marlene McKinnon asked curiously. Hermione took a deep breath, and looked at her feet.

"Because information came to us, irrefutable intelligence, that Regulus Black found out what Voldemort had done—that he'd created at least one horcrux—and gave his life to try and obtain the horcrux and destroy it. The tapestry in the parlor records his death date as 1979. I can only assume it was after he graduated Hogwarts that he would attempt to find the locket and destroy it," Hermione said softly. She didn't look near the Marauders.

"He was successful?" Moody demanded. Hermione shook her head.

"The locket was hidden, in a basin with a potion that was on an island in the cave, surrounded by a lake. He ordered Kreacher to force feed him the potion, and once they got the locket, he tried to drink from the lake…," she trailed off, her voice strained.

"How did my brother die?" Sirius's asked in a choked voice. She looked up at him, to see his face deathly pale. He was obviously holding himself under rigid control that was rapidly crumbling.

"Inferi," she whispered. Sirius closed his eyes. "Regulus had ordered Kreacher to return home, and the order saved Kreacher's life. He was forced to return with the locket, but Regulus' death deeply affected him. Regulus had also forbidden Kreacher to ever speak of it to anyone in the family. Sirius never knew what really happened. He thought that Regulus tried to quit, and was killed by fellow Death Eaters."

"Why wouldn't you tell me this? Obviously you knew me well enough—you're friends with my bloody godson." Sirius demanded, his eyes blazing. Hermione's eyes were grief-stricken.

"We didn't know…until after," she whispered brokenly. Sirius stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione flinched as though she'd been struck. The Marauders, and Lily, trailed after him.

"Not your fault, girl," Moody said gruffly and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Thank you, sir, but that doesn't help much," she muttered. He nodded.

"No, it doesn't," Moody agreed with a slightly sad air. "I think we've gotten enough information tonight. If the Longbottoms are willing to put you up, that's all for the better. You do have a wand, yes?"

Hermione held up her hand, flicked her wrist, and her wand slid out of her arm holster. Moody blinked in surprise and then nodded in grudging approval.

"Constant vigilance," she said with a cheeky grin. Frank Longbottom rolled his eyes behind Moody.

"Please don't encourage him," Frank muttered. Hermione shrugged.

"So…side-along?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I was going to floo," Frank said in surprise. Hermione stared at him.

"You do know the Ministry's probably monitoring the floo systems, right?" She asked him as politely as she could. Frank groaned. His wife, Alice, walked over and slid an arm around his waist.

"What's wrong, love?" She asked him. He glared at her.

"I've figured out who Hermione's soul mate is," Frank sighed dramatically. He was loud enough that several people heard him.

"What's that Longbottom?" Benjy walked over, curiosity on his face.

"She keeps preaching about constant vigilance, and she's just told me we can't floo because the Ministry might be monitoring," Frank told his friend. The people close enough to hear hid smiles. A couple snickered.

"Listen," Hermione said, tossing her curls over her shoulder. "Mad-Eye has a lot of good ideas. He certainly lived longer than any of….um….quite a few people. He's right to be paranoid. They _are_ watching."

"Mad-Eye?" Fabian and Gideon had come up behind her.

"Well, I guess he isn't…yet," she said with a sheepish grin and a shrug. "The entire time I've known him he has been…it's hard to remember that he isn't to you lot."

"Are there any other odd nicknames we should know about?" Fabian asked curiously. "Maybe Pegleg Gideon? Or Half-hand Fabian?"

"No," Hermione got out through her giggles. She noticed the Marauders standing in a subdued group in the corner, and sighed sadly. It wasn't her place to reveal any of their secrets that she didn't need to. "No."

"Come along then, Hermione. We'll need to introduce you to Mother," Frank said with a long-suffering sigh. Alice rolled her eyes.

"Brilliant," Hermione said cheerfully, not noticing the strange looks. "I wonder if she'd be up for a cuppa. Maybe tomorrow she'd duel with me. If she's not too busy, of course."

"You are the strangest girl," Frank said slowly, shaking his head.

"What?" Hermione asked in surprise. "She's a busy woman, she might _not_ have time for some random time-travelling girl who wants to duel with her. I mean, she doesn't remember me, or any of Nev—er, um, never mind. Let's go!"


	3. Settling In

The Longbottom estate was just as Hermione remembered it. She moved confidently from the apparition point, and waited patiently just outside the wards for Frank and Alice to join her. She found herself excited to see Augusta Longbottom. After the war, Neville's grandmother had become quite close to Hermione and Luna Lovegood. She hadn't cared much for Ginny, but at this point Hermione was willing to concede that perhaps Mrs. Longbottom had been more astute than she had.

"You've been here before?" Frank guessed. Hermione nodded happily, a genuine smile transforming her completely. Frank and Alice looked at one another in surprise and turned back to Hermione.

"Let's go through then," Alice said with a tentative smile for Hermione.

The distance from the edge of the wards to the house was extensive, but Hermione didn't mind. She moved purposefully toward the house, and then paused when she realized that Frank and Alice had fallen behind her slightly. They were panting when they finally caught up with her. Hermione adjusted her pace to match theirs, and found herself looking around curiously and cataloguing the differences between the future estate and its current state. The grounds seemed very much the same, there didn't seem to be any overt differences.

"Frank, dear, one assumes that there is an excellent reason for you to bring guests home at ten in the evening," came an acerbic voice that made Hermione grin from ear to ear.

"Well, mother, it's rather a long story. The guest in question suggested that she would enjoy taking tea with you," Frank said mildly, with a roll of his eyes for his wife.

"Very well, let us retire to the blue parlor," Mrs. Longbottom said shortly.

The blue parlor was Mrs. Longbottom's favorite because there was only one apparent way in or out, and by sitting just so one could keep an eye on the door, and be right next to the hidden exit. Hermione walked in and sat down carefully in a wingback chair that she usually favored in the future. Mrs. Longbottom was looking at the unusual young woman in her Quidditch jersey and sweat pants and turned in confusion to her son.

"And the, er, young lady?" Mrs. Longbottom asked curiously. Frank and Alice looked at one another doubtfully.

"I'm with the Order, ma'am," Hermione said solemnly. "I'm on a mission, and your son and his wife very kindly offered me a place to stay."

"Of course he did," Mrs. Longbottom said with a regal sniff. "How do you take your tea?"

"As black as Voldemort's soul, ma'am," Hermione said with an angelic smile. This earned her a snort and an amused glance from Mrs. Longbottom.

"Now, how can we help you in your mission?" Mrs. Longbottom asked her baldly. Hermione took a small sip of her tea, smiled appreciatively, and set down her cup carefully.

"Well, ma'am, I would be honored if you would duel with me on a regular basis. And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd like to transfigure a small section of your property into an obstacle course. Oh, and if you've got some extra clothes that happen to be lying about, that would be splendid," Hermione rattled off her list of needs, and Mrs. Longbottom nodded at all of them.

"Wait, you're willing to duel with her?" Frank asked in surprise. Hermione smirked at Mrs. Longbottom.

"Didn't tell your own son, ma'am?" Hermione asked her, amusement heavy in her tone. She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Are you ashamed of your accomplishments?"

"How did you know?" Mrs. Longbottom asked dryly, her lips twitching. "I assume it was Minerva? She's always trying to make my life difficult."

"No ma'am," Hermione said with a shake of her impossible curls. "Let's just say that I gathered the information from a trustworthy source, and that it was most definitely not Professor McGonagall."

"Didn't tell me what?" Frank asked, curious despite himself. His mother had always played the proper pureblood wife, and this conversation hinted at something both mysterious and interesting in her past.

"The Champion of the 1955 Junior Dueling Invitational was Augusta Dodderidge," Hermione said with a sly smile at his mother.

"You? You were a dueling champion and you never said anything?" Frank said, shocked. "Is that why Dumbledore kept coming to you to talk? Was he asking you to join the Order?"

"I'm not going to discuss why Dumbledore came to speak with me," Augusta Longbottom informed her son with a hard stare. He frowned at her. "However, yes I was a dueling champion. As to why I never mentioned it, the subject never arose. It isn't as though I might say 'Please pass the toast tray, and oh, son, by the way I was a dueling champion when I was much, much younger'."

"I suppose it would have seemed odd," Frank muttered, still frowning.

"Now, as to this young lady's suggestions. I believe I do have clothing for you. It is up in the attic, but we'll have it taken down and laundered. As long as your transfigured bit of the lawn is kept out of the neighbor's sight, we shan't have any problems," Mrs. Longbottom spoke firmly, and her eyes flicked to her son slightly when she mentioned the neighbors. Hermione noticed that Frank's eyes hardened slightly. "I would be just as honored to duel with you, young lady, whatever your name might be."

"Oh! I am terribly sorry, I just forgot that you don't know me," Hermione blushed prettily. She held out her hand politely and looked expectantly at Frank who started slightly.

"Mother, this is Miss Hermione Granger, member of the Order of the Phoenix. Miss Granger, this is my mother, Augusta Longbottom," Frank introduced them carefully.

"A pleasure to meet you," Mrs. Longbottom said formally, nodding her head as she shook Hermione's hand.

"The pleasure is mine," Hermione said sincerely. Mrs. Longbottom stared at her for a moment, and then nodded slightly.

"Let's get you to bed, and rest, and tomorrow we shall see how talented a duelist you are," Mrs. Longbottom said smoothly, but Hermione saw the slight twitch of her lips, and smiled to herself.

The next morning Hermione's internal clock woke her at 0530, and she jumped up, looking for the promised clothing. It was all witches' robes, which she supposed she should have expected, but she snorted in irritation. She put them on, and then immediately transfigured them to her favorite work-out clothes: military issue pants with their millions of pockets, which had been altered to a midnight black, a black t-shirt with a rising phoenix on the chest, and black boots. She flicked her wand and her riotous curls were scraped back into a utilitarian French braid. She moved easily out of the room and down the stairs, thanks to her familiarity with the house and grounds. A brief stop in the kitchen startled the house elves, but they were happy enough to give her a cup of tea and a bowl of porridge.

Frank and Alice had made their way down to breakfast at 7:30 a.m. because Augusta Longbottom ran her household on a tight schedule. Any later than that and he would have had to put up with little comments about laziness for the rest of the day. As they entered the informal dining room, Frank noticed that his mother looked irritated, and it did not ease when they entered the room. Alice looked around the room.

"Is Hermione not here yet?" Alice asked cautiously, assuming that was the reason for the expression on her mother-in-law's face.

"The house elves have informed me that Miss Granger took breakfast in the kitchen at 5:45 in the morning. She's been transfiguring her small corner of the lawn since then," Mrs. Longbottom said with a slight hint of approval in her voice.

"Why do you look as though you've swallowed a lemon then?" Frank demanded.

"The Prewett boys have had their house elf bring their card," Mrs. Longbottom said coolly.

"What's wrong with that?" Alice asked in surprise, looking at her husband. Frank shrugged.

"I don't know. Mother?" Frank asked curiously. She fixed a gimlet stare on him.

"You do recall the _last_ time I allowed the Prewett twins on the Longbottom estate?" She asked caustically. Frank blushed a dark, dark red.

"Mother we were fifteen years old," he protested. "And Mrs. Marchbanks was fine…eventually."

"What on earth did the three of you do?" Alice asked curiously. Frank glared at his mother.

"I hardly think we need to talk about that now," Frank said firmly. "It might be nice if we had a sort of welcoming party for Miss Granger. I think though, that it might be best if we developed a cover identity for her. What if we said she was a distant cousin?"

"It might, indeed, be more convenient for her to have some sort of cover identity," Mrs. Longbottom mused thoughtfully. "I shall look at our family tree, and see if we have an obscure cousin that no one remembers."

"Are you going to let Fabian and Gideon come for tea, then?" Alice asked curiously.

"I suppose if I must," Mrs. Longbottom muttered darkly, her lips curling in distaste.

"Very good," Alice said mildly, sipping at her tea. "I'll let Pinky know."

"However, I want you to inform both of those…gentlemen…that I shall be keeping a sharp eye on them both," she said acerbically, her gaze narrowing on her son's face. He sighed and nodded.

A dedicated dueling ring was something that not many families could boast of, but the Longbottom estate had had theirs for centuries. Hermione looked around appreciatively and commented on several of the finer appointments. Augusta preened under her praise. Most witches and wizards allowed Augusta Longbottom's reputation to speak for her, and many people avoided her as a result. For the most part, Augusta was grateful that idiots gave her a wide berth, but it was rare for her to meet a young person like this: unaffected, bluntly honest, and strong. When Hermione began to duel with her, she changed her estimation of the girl slightly. She wasn't just strong—she'd been tempered by war. This girl used battle rules for dueling automatically, as though she didn't realize there was any other way to duel. She barely bowed her eyes on her opponent at all times. She cast mostly nonverbally, and one or two Augusta would have sworn were wandless, too. She jumped, twisted and dropped to the ground to avoid hexes that should have hit their mark. Half the time, the girl automatically responded to something that Augusta barely sensed. Her reflexes were hair trigger, and finely honed. In the end, however, Augusta's experience allowed her to cast a layered hex that Hermione triggered when she tried to counteract the first layer of the spell. When they were done, both of them were sweating. Hermione immediately cast a quick cleansing charm on the both of them, and held her hand out cheerfully.

"It was an honor to lose to you, Mrs. Longbottom," she said with a wide smile. "Tomorrow, same time?"

"It would be my pleasure, dear, but please call me Augusta," Mrs. Longbottom said sincerely. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and pleasure.

"Thank you, ma'am," she murmured, a light blush on her cheeks.

"Now, against my better judgment, we are having guests for tea, and I suggest that you take a quick bath, and put on some proper clothing before they arrive," Augusta said firmly with a quick glance at the way her houseguest's clothing clung to her small frame.

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said dutifully and she turned and jogged toward the house.

The blue parlor served as the perfect room for a light tea, and Augusta sat in her favorite chair so that she could observe everything easily. The young woman that was perched in the wingback near hers looked markedly different from the young woman she'd dueled earlier. This Hermione wore witch's robes gracefully, and sat with her ankles crossed and her hands folded demurely in her lap. Her thick, wild hair had been tamed by the house elves so that perfect ringlets cascaded down her back. Augusta had never seen either Fabian or Gideon Prewett at a loss for words, and it amused her to see them stumble over themselves like nervous schoolboys.

"You're looking well today, Miss Granger," Fabian offered politely, glancing at his brother for help. Gideon shrugged slightly. Hermione took a small sip of her tea, and smiled sweetly at Fabian.

"Thank you," she said politely. "I feel much better today, Mr. Prewett. Of course, the house elves helped me before I went to bed. Augusta is always prepared, so I took a couple restorative potions last night."

"Augusta?" The rest of the room echoed blankly, while Augusta and Hermione shared a private glance. Hermione smirked.

"Yes, after our duel, she granted me leave to use her given name," she explained.

"We came over for tea because our mother wanted to invite you to dinner," Gideon said carefully, glancing at his brother while he spoke. Fabian nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, mother wants you to come for dinner," Fabian said eagerly.

"That seems like rather odd behavior for Ginevra Prewett," Augusta said severely, frowning at the Prewett twins. Hermione was just about to take a sip of tea when she started slightly, and set her cup down on her saucer.

"Ginevra Prewett?" She asked curiously, her head tilted slightly. A far-away look was in her eyes, and she frowned just a little.

"Yes, well, our Aunt Muriel is coming and-," Gideon began, when Hermione began choking violently on her tea. She gasped and coughed and glared at the Prewett twins.

"Absolutely not," she said firmly. "I refuse to be trapped in a room with _that woman_ for any length of time."

"Ah, met her have you?" Fabian asked dryly. Mrs. Longbottom snorted to herself.

"Do you know Aunt Muriel?" Hermione asked curiously. Mrs. Longbottom raised a brow at Hermione in surprise. She flushed and glanced at the Prewett twins.

"I…er, I've only met her once or twice. The first was at Bill's wedding, and no one actually introduced us," she said nervously.

"Bill got married?" Gideon goggled at her. She smiled fondly.

"Yes, he did," she murmured. "Anyway, I don't know what her last name is, no one ever said."

"So tell me, how did your first meeting with dear Auntie Muriel go?" Fabian asked, fascinated. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"She told me I was a plain girl and I had skinny ankles," Hermione said shortly. "Looking back, I think that was the most positive interaction I ever had with the woman. At Percy's wedding, Fred and George had to hold me back, or I would have hexed her."

"Molly did hex her once. Mum paddled her, and she wasn't able to sit down for week," Gideon offered with a fond smile at the memory.

"We would consider it a great personal favor if you came," Fabian said earnestly. "If you can manage to do it so that no one can figure it out, we're fine with you pranking her or hexing her."

"Her name is Muriel Yaxley. She's Ginevra's older sister. They were both Macmillans," Augusta said coolly. "And I shall just pretend I haven't heard what the Prewett boy just said."

"Ah," Hermione said blankly. She stared at the Prewett twins for a moment, and ignored the fluttering in her stomach. Then she sighed heavily. "Fine. Yes, I'd love to sit there and listen your Aunt insult me for a few hours."

"We should probably discuss your cover before you go. Fabian, Gideon, did you tell your mother anything about our guest?" Augusta Longbottom fixed her stern gaze upon the two young men. They looked at one another and back at Mrs. Longbottom.

"No, not really. Just that she was staying with you. I…I'm not sure we even remembered to tell her your name, Miss Granger," Gideon said carefully, trying to remember their earlier conversation.

"Excellent," said Augusta with a pleased smile. "You'll be Jean MacDougall. The MacDougalls are distant cousins of ours, and I believe Muriel had a crushed on Lachlan MacDougall in school. He married Senga Ross, and they moved out of the country after Jeanie's birth. Yes, that should do nicely."

"She doesn't look much like a Jean," Fabian said with a slight frown. He liked Hermione much better, it rolled of the tongue. It was different, unique, just like the girl that sat across from him. She looked nothing like she had last night, but he still liked it. The cascade of chestnut ringlets practically begged him bury his hands in her hair.

"Not really, no," Gideon agreed. He watched her cheeks turn pink and decided that it suited her. The witch's robes she wore today accentuated her feminine figure, and he found himself wishing that they were able to speak to her without Augusta Longbottom's intimidating presence. Actually, he wished that he could press her up against a random wall somewhere and find out what her lips tasted like.

"So, wait a minute, have you all decided I _am_ going to be stuck in a room with that woman?" Hermione asked faintly, looking horrified. "And I don't even have Fred and George to protect me from her?"

"They could drool on her," Fabian said with a sly grin.

"We'll protect you," Gideon said firmly, glancing at his brother who nodded.

"Can Frank and Alice come too?" Hermione asked, glancing at them pleadingly. Fabian and Gideon shrugged.

"Sure."


	4. Dinner with Aunt Muriel

_A/N: I'm trying to make this as logical as time-traveling/soul-mate/Prewett Twin Fun will allow. It's a little quirk of mine—internal consistency. How **should **they figure out that the whole 'soul mate' thing was more than shite? I tend more toward funny than angsty. I do a little angst, but it's not a strong suit. _

Prewett's Folly was nothing like the Burrow, and yet everywhere Hermione looked she was strongly reminded of the Weasley home. There were haphazard stairs that led to nowhere, and doors that opened onto rooms that shouldn't have been there. Hermione loved it, but it was frustrating if one merely wanted to find the bathroom. From the outside Prewett's Folly looked like a modest Palladian villa, far less imposing than Woburn's Abbey or others of that ilk. However, on the inside, it was pure wizarding mayhem.

"Why is it called Prewett's Folly?" Hermione asked Cincinnatus Prewett curiously. He grinned and shook his head.

"My great-grandfather, Trajan Prewett, received a copy of Andrea Palladio's _I quattro libri dell'architettura_ from Flourish & Blott's by mistake and was fascinated. My great-grandmother thought he'd lost his mind. He built the place, and she named it," He said dryly. Hermione chuckled and shook her head.

"I love it," she said sincerely. He snorted.

"You're one of few who does," he confided. "Most people, even Ginevra on some days, just get irritated when the room they're looking for isn't where it ought to be."

"Well, if I were in a hurry I suppose that would be frustrating," she admitted. Cincinnatus laughed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"I think I like you, Jean MacDougall," he said with a shake of his head.

"That'll be enough of that, Dad," Fabian said firmly, appearing at Hermione's elbow.

"Go find your own girl," Gideon added from her other elbow. "I think Mum's looking for the pantry. She was cursing great-grandfather Prewett again anyway."

Cincinnatus chuckled dryly and went off to help his wife. Hermione turned to the Prewett twins, her lips curving into a smile almost against her will. She barely knew these two men, had known them only for a matter of days, and yet she found she liked and trusted them. Of course, she knew that they belonged to the Order, and that they'd been murdered by Voldemort's Death Eaters, but she really didn't know much more beyond that. It unnerved her a little that her body relaxed when they were next to her. At the same time, it was as though she _did_ know them. Perhaps it was because she had grown up surrounded by boys who flouted the rules whenever the need arose. Harry wasn't exactly a scrupulous rule follower, and then there were the Weasley boys. She'd basically been adopted by the younger three. She knew how to handle Fred and George. Bill and Charlie had always treated her with a sort of fond regard. Percy was Percy, and Ron ended up more like a brother than anything else. That wasn't even counting her passing friendships with Remus and Sirius. Whatever the circumstances, Hermione had the experience to easily recognize prankster, and the Prewett Twins were obviously cast in the Marauder mold.

"Now who said that I was _your_ girl?" Hermione asked archly, one brow raised in question. Fabian and Gideon smirked.

"No one," they replied.

"I just told Dad to go find his own girl," Gideon clarified, his blue eyes teasing. Hermione rolled her eyes at the both of them.

"Well, then, I suppose I ought to go find Frank and Alice," Hermione said firmly, and slid easily passed the two handsome men. She smirked to herself as she walked swiftly down the hall, the sounds of low, urgent arguing following her.

Dinners at Prewett's Folly were much like the family dinners and holidays at the Burrow: everyone gathered around a large table in the dining room and they all teased one another as they ate. Hermione almost felt as though she hadn't actually left, except for the fact that an eight year-old Bill was sitting next to her on one side, and a six year-old Charlie sat on the other side. They looked intimidated by the large number of people sitting around their Grandma Prewett's dining room table, and Hermione tried to put their fears at ease.

"So Charlie, I bet you love Quidditch, yeah?" Hermione asked politely, taking a small bite of her food. Charlie nodded mutely. Molly was watching this strange, new girl with suspicion, but Fabian and Gideon rolled their eyes at her. She nibbled on her lip for a moment and thought. "But I bet there's something you love even more than Quidditch."

"There is," Bill agreed with a sly smile at his brother. Charlie glared at his brother behind Hermione's back and stuck his tongue out at Bill.

"Really?" Hermione gasped in mock amazement. "Something _better _than Quidditch? Why…is that even _possible_?"

"For Charlie, it is," Bill said from Hermione's other side. Hermione hid a smile and turned back to Charlie with a deep look of intense concentration.

"Well the only thing that _I_ can think of that would be any better than Quidditch would be dragons," she said slowly, tapping her chin. "But you probably _hate _dragons."

"I don't hate dragons," Charlie muttered under his breath, sneaking glances at Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. She grinned at him.

"I don't hate dragons, either," she confided quietly. Charlie just stared at her. She blinked at him. "What?"

"But you're a girl!" Charlie protested. Hermione snorted.

"So what?" She demanded. "Here, let me show you something I learned from a friend of mine."

After the defeat of Voldemort, Hermione had pestered the people that she knew to show her how the little dragon models had been made for the Triwizard tournament. It had been part of an idea for a Christmas present for Charlie. Hermione took out her wand, and took a spoon and flicked it in a complicated pattern while she mumbled under her breath. When she was done there was a tiny Chinese Fireball squatting on the table and glaring at them. It sneezed and shot fire out of its mouth. Charlie's mouth dropped open and he stared at Hermione with complete adoration.

"Oooh, can't have him singeing grandma Prewett's tablecloth," she muttered to herself. Another swish of her wand and the tiny dragon model was in a see-through fire-proof terrarium, which had been another facet of the Christmas present for Charlie. She couldn't imagine that he would have been thrilled to have the small models destroy his tent, and that had been one of the first things she'd worked on. "There."

"In my day, young ladies knew what proper table manners were," Aunt Muriel opined from her place at the end of the table. "None of this conjuring dragons at the dinner table."

Hermione ignored the old bat, just as she had been for the past hour or so. She took another small bite of her dinner and smiled at Bill. Fabian and Gideon were sitting across from her, with Alice sandwiched between them, and they both rolled their eyes at her, which she supposed was supposed to appear condemning of Aunt Muriel and supportive of her. She smiled at Alice, who smirked back at her.

"So, Bill," Hermione said seriously, frowning slightly at the eight year-old sitting next to her. "Have you put much thought in your future? I mean, you are eight years old already. It's time you considered what you'll do to bring home the galleons."

"I…um, I like Ancient Runes," Bill said with wide eyes. Hermione blinked at him for a moment.

"You do?" she said curiously, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She turned to her other side for a moment, "No, Charlie, love, don't put the napkin in there, she'll set it on fire. Here, give her a bit of roast. Now, Bill, I'm impressed at your interest in Ancient Runes."

"Dad found a book, and it's got all kinds of keen things you can do with 'em," Bill said earnestly.

"Really?" Hermione asked in genuine interest. "Do you suppose I might see it sometime?"

"In my day, young ladies never studied things like Ancient Runes. How will the girl ever get someone to marry her with those skinny ankles if she insists on taking men's classes," Aunt Muriel announced to the table. Ginevra Prewett was flushed in embarrassment, and Cincinnatus shook his head at his wife slightly. Fabian and Gideon were staring in fascination at Hermione whose hair was crackling with power.

"Charlie, sweetheart, she's a dragon, she won't like the salad," Hermione said gently and pushed the rest of her roast onto his plate. "Feed her that."

"Why is your hair sparking like that?" Bill asked curiously. Hermione smiled tightly.

"It does that sometimes," Hermione said with a laugh. "Harry used to say it was the early warning indicator."

"What happens if you ignore the early warning?" Bill wanted to know. The smile that Hermione bestowed him was one of genuine amusement.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find out someday," she said lightly, thinking of his younger brother's amazing ability to drive her mad in the smallest possible amount of time.

"Now?" He asked with the insatiable curiosity of young boys everywhere. Hermione smirked.

"Maybe outside, after dinner, away from anything your grandmother is particularly fond of," Hermione conceded after a small sip of water.

The dinner dragged on painfully, by the time they'd reached dessert, Hermione's hair was crackling enough that it had caught the tiny Chinese Fireball's attention, and it stared at her unblinkingly. Hermione had given Charlie a gold galleon so that his dragon could have some treasure, and the little thing had been guarding it most carefully until it had been distracted by her hair. Fabian, or Gideon, she wasn't sure which had tapped surreptitiously at her foot. She ignored the nudge and continued to talk to Bill. The nudge returned, slightly more insistent this time, and Hermione looked at them from under her lashes. Fabian grinned cheekily at her. Ah. It must have been him. Hermione rolled her eyes, and turned her attention back to her dinner partner. When dinner was over, Hermione heaved a huge mental sigh, and excused herself to her host and hostess. She escaped outside and stood there for a few minutes under the stars, breathing deeply and trying to calm herself down.

"Hey," Gideon appeared by her elbow. "Are you all right? I know she can be a bit much."

"That's one way of putting it," Hermione said dryly. Gideon took her arm and started walking with her toward the gardens.

"Well I could say that she's a horrible old woman, and hopefully she'll be kidnapped by crazed harpies and made their queen, but you've well and truly crushed that fantasy," he confided quietly.

Hermione giggled at the mental image of Aunt Muriel as the Queen of the harpies. They were deep into the garden now, and Gideon turned to face her. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she stared up at him. It was dark, and all she could really make out were shadows, but she sensed that his mood had turned solemn. He brought his hand up to cup her face and she found herself leaning into his hand.

"Hermione?" Fabian's voice drifted to them, and Gideon sighed.

"Yes?" She called back, standing perfectly still with Gideon's hand on her cheek.

"You should be careful out here, great-granddad did a few things to the garden as well," Fabian's voice sounded a little closer.

"Oh, that's all right," Hermione said with a wicked smile at Gideon. "I've got Gideon right here protecting me."

That response earned her a quick kiss on the nose, and Hermione could have sworn she heard Fabian muttering something about bloody tossers. They stood there companionably in the dark until Fabian made his way to them. He took in their body language and turned to look at his brother with a raised brow.

"This is your idea of playing fair?" Fabian asked acidly. "At the first opportunity you drag her off in the dark to romance her?"

"Well you were busy," Gideon muttered. "So I thought I'd show her the gardens."

"In the _dark_?" Fabian asked sharply. Hermione could feel Gideon shrug.

"She certainly didn't want to be inside with Aunt Muriel," Gideon pointed out.

"You two aren't actually fighting over me, are you?" Hermione asked in a slightly dazed voice.

"No."

"Yes."

"Er, maybe?"

"Wait, which answer gets us yelled at?"

"But…but…," Hermione's mind started spinning at that point.

She liked both men, and she knew that they were both attracted to her. The way they'd acted around her since she'd met them convinced her of that. She knew that Fred and George were so close that sometimes they dated the same girl. Not all the time, and it had to be a girl that was comfortable with the whole idea, which usually ruled out muggleborn witches. The twins themselves had explained to her that in the wizarding world it was fairly common for twins to stay together because their magic was linked. That meant that on a fairly regular basis, a set of twins would date, or even marry the same person. Hermione had been fascinated with the idea, and read so much on the subject, that Fred and George had teased her that she was researching to be their wife. The idea that the Prewett twins would want her to date just one of them hadn't occurred to her. She felt horribly embarrassed, and she was certain that her face must be ten shades of red.

"Hermione," Gideon said uncertainly.

"I have to go," Hermione blurted out, and ran for the house.

"You've gone and cocked that one up, then," Gideon growled at his brother. Fabian snorted.

"It was bad form, dragging her out to the damn garden by yourself, you bloody tosser," Fabian growled back. Gideon chuckled at him.

"Right, because you wouldn't have done the same," Gideon said dryly.

"That's not the point," Fabian said stiffly.

Surprise and consternation were visible on both men's faces when their mother informed them that the Longbottoms had left with their young houseguest in tow. She had a dark look in her eye for both of her sons, as she suspected that they were responsible for the dark blush that had been on the young girl's cheeks.

"In my day, young ladies didn't wander about in the gardens in the dark with young gentlemen," Aunt Muriel said tartly, with a dark look at Fabian and Gideon who rolled their eyes.

"Mum did," Fabian said firmly. Ginevra Prewett smacked the back of Fabian's head.

"Fabian!"

"Well, dad said you did," he said with a shrug, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh, honestly! What must that poor girl think of us?" Ginevra muttered wringing her hands. Cincinnatus chuckled.

"I liked her, I thought she was a lovely girl," he observed with a smile for his sons.

"She was wonderful with Bill and Charlie," Molly said with a smile for her oldest sons. Arthur was carrying a sleeping Percy and he nodded.

"She seems like a genuine, kind girl," he said with a glance at Fabian and Gideon. Arthur was a member of the Order, and he knew who she was, but tonight he'd seen a different side of the girl that had burst into their meeting. He found himself liking this strange girl, and he approved of his brothers-in-law's interest in her.

**FP/HG/GP**

"What happened?" Alice asked uncertainly after glancing at her husband.

"Nothing," Hermione moaned in embarrassment.

"Obviously something did happen," Frank pointed out calmly.

"No, nothing happened, I just misunderstood the situation, and I feel like an idiot right now," Hermione explained. "Ugh. I want to go home. At least there I know what's going on."

"Do you have, er, a boyfriend back home?" Frank asked curiously. Hermione started laughing, and didn't stop for several minutes.

"What's so funny?" Alice asked cautiously. Hermione fanned herself and tried to control her laughter.

"Back home, I'm one third of the Golden Trio. You have absolutely no idea what that means, but it means that I'm a fairly intimidating figure to ask out. _If_ someone is brave enough to ask me out, they have to go through Harry and all of the Weasley boys. Usually that's just Arthur, Ron, and the twins. If he makes it passed one or two dates, then they call in the big guns, and Bill and Charlie show up to dinner 'out of the blue'," Hermione explained carefully. "Needless to say, I'm one of the most well-guarded women in all of wizarding Britain."

"My goodness," Alice murmured. "And I thought my brothers were bad."

"Harry was the worst, honestly," Hermione said with a snort. "So, no, no boyfriend back home."

"Then you feel like you misunderstood Gideon and Fabian?" Frank pushed gently. He had been friends with the Prewett twins at Hogwarts, and they had been in Gryffindor together. He knew that they liked Hermione, but apparently they'd done something stupid to mess it up. They'd probably been too eager and they'd overwhelmed her, or something.

"I…I guess so," she said finally in a small voice. "It's stupid, really. I'm going to go to bed. Your mum promised to duel with me in the morning."

"You and my mother-in-law," Alice said shaking her head. "I've never seen her take to anyone the way she has with you. It's uncanny."

"Is it?" Hermione asked curiously and shrugged. "Back home, everyone says we have too much in common. Nev—oh, um…never mind. Forget that bit. I'm off to bed."

"Wait, Hermione," Frank asked cautiously. Hermione turned and looked at him curiously. "Erm, it just occurred to me that perhaps Fabian and Gideon might have, er, you aren't muggleborn, are you?"

"Is that a problem for them?" Hermione asked in a strange, deadly calm voice.

"Sometimes," Frank said slowly. "You see magical twins are a bit different because their magic is linked…"

"I know that," Hermione interrupted with a roll of her eyes. "Fred and George told me all about it. I was the one they cried all over when some muggleborn witch got weirded out by the idea of dating the both of them."

"Oh," Frank said, defeated. What on earth had Fabian and Gideon done? "Well, good night then."

"Yeah," Hermione muttered morosely and headed to her room.


	5. Avoiding the Inevitable

_A/N: Okay people, I do the sappy, happy ending. I do __**not**__ do riffs off of Hemingway or Shakespearian tragedy where __**everyone**__ dies in the end. I would never, ever choose a romantic hero and then kill him (or them). Unless of course I was super depressed, but even when I'm depressed I want the happy ending. So, no, we are not killing off Fabian and Gideon. Perish the thought. _

_Here is an interesting dilemma though. Do we have her come back to older, distinguished Prewett twins? Or do we let her live with young, playful Prewett twins, and let the time paradoces fall where they may? Maybe we should vote…or maybe I should choose arbitrarily. _

An owl arrived just after Hermione and Augusta's morning duel. Hermione opened the letter curiously, and nodded to herself. Auror Moody wanted to meet and discuss the information she'd provided. He didn't want to meet at the Ministry, but he wanted Sirius Black present as they were going to be talking about his brother. James Potter had kindly offered his home in Godric's Hollow as a meeting place, and was willing to have Moody bring her there this afternoon. Hermione replied right away, and informed Augusta of her afternoon plans. Augusta snorted in amusement.

"And when the Prewett twins show up here?" Augusta asked curiously. Hermione's lips thinned and her eyes narrowed.

"I'm not in, and you don't know where I am or what I'm up to," Hermione said tartly. Augusta raised an eyebrow at her.

"You do know that those two won't likely take that as an answer," Augusta cautioned her. Hermione shrugged.

"I'll deal with them later, right now I need to focus on Moody," Hermione said with a sigh. Augusta nodded firmly.

"Yes, you do," she agreed.

Later that afternoon, Hermione looked around the Potter home with a sense of strangeness. She kept seeing the house that she and Harry had visited, overlaid on this one. She kept shaking her head, and blinking. The pictures on the walls were the same pictures that would hang there twenty years in the future. She didn't realize it, but she looked pale and haunted when Moody directed her to have a seat.

"Have you been here before, Miss Granger?" Moody asked curiously.

"Once," she whispered, her amber eyes wide, as she turned and stared at them, her face drawn and pale.

"It was an unpleasant visit?" Moody asked softly, his eyes watching her. She swallowed and shook her head.

"It was…necessary at the time," she said in a strained voice. Moody pursed his lips, but let the matter slide.

"Now the Horcruxes, where to find them and how to destroy them," Moody began. Hermione shook herself briefly and nodded in determination.

"Of course," she said firmly. "We mostly used basilisk venom and the sword of Gryffindor. Goyle tried to kill us with fiendfyre at the Battle of Hogwarts, and that had the happy coincidence of destroying Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, and the horcrux it contained."

"Excuse me, the Battle of _what_?" Lily asked, shocked and horrified. Hermione bit her lip.

"You probably shouldn't mention that to anyone else," Hermione said with an apologetic look at Moody. He nodded.

"They've already taken Unbreakable Vows to discuss what they learn today only with those currently present. No one else," Moody said firmly. Hermione gave him a nod of approval.

"How did you acquire basilisk venom?" Remus demanded. "Do you know how rare that stuff is?"

"Erm, no?" Hermione said with a shrug. "Harry killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets in our second year with the sword of Gryffindor, and we just went down there and got a bunch of fangs."

"You just…," Remus trailed off faintly his eyes huge in his face.

"Your second year? I've gotta meet this Harry kid someday," James said in an admiring tone. Hermione snorted.

"Back to the Horcruxes," Moody said impatiently. Hermione nodded. She nibbled on her lip and then looked at Moody.

"You can gather all of them, but wait to destroy any of them, until you have all of them, and a plan to attack Voldemort. Once you start destroying them—he'll know. They're cursed items now, they've been tainted for normal use. Do not let anyone try to use any of the Horcruxes once they've been destroyed. Please, don't let Dumbledore anywhere near the Gaunt/Peverell ring. He's obsessed with the Deathly Hallows, and it's cursed," Hermione said urgently, her eyes on Moody. He nodded gravely.

"He died didn't he?" Moody asked somberly. Hermione paled, and her lips tightened.

"You don't want me to answer that," she said softly. "Let's just focus on the here and now."

"My brother, Regulus," Sirius said suddenly. He'd been quiet until now, and everyone turned to him. "How do I help my brother?"

"I—I never met him, of course, and I don't believe he'd speak to me," Hermione said thoughtfully. "He'd probably trust you, and at least meet with you. I believe he's already lent Kreacher to Voldemort, and he's probably waiting a reasonable time before going to destroy the Horcrux. After he graduates seems the most logical course of action, and it would fit with the little we do know of him."

"So, I try and get him to meet with me?" Sirius asked doubtfully. Hermione frowned slightly.

"He's not the same boy you knew, Sirius," she said sadly. "He's seen things that would give you nightmares. He's trying to do the right thing…just give him the chance to do so."

"And the other Horcruxes?" Moody asked curiously.

"The Gaunt place has the ring," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I'd be willing to go there and help you find it. I didn't locate that one, but I believe I know what to look for."

"You said that Malfoy has the diary?" Moody said, looking at some brief notes. Hermione had gone completely rigid and her eyes had gone curiously flat.

"I'm not going there," she said in a strange, distant voice. Moody recognized the look on her face and nodded to himself.

"It's at his Manor, then? In Wiltshire?" Moody pressed. She nodded slowly.

"I believe so. We believe that he didn't understand what it was he was guarding, exactly. If he had known…he never would have done what he did," Hermione said slowly. The closed off look on her face was making the Marauders nervous, and they looked to Moody for reassurance. Lily realized what all of Hermione's body language meant, and paled.

"Something bad happened there, didn't it?" She whispered, staring at Hermione. The young woman's face grew even colder as she pulled back emotionally from them.

"I don't want to talk about it," she muttered. Moody patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"No one's asking you to, girl. Let's move on from the diary for a moment. How about the diadem or the cup?"

"The cup will be the hardest," Hermione said thoughtfully, happy to move on from Malfoy Manor. "We had to break into Gringott's, but you'll want to avoid that if you can."

"You did _what_? Was that Harry kid with you?" James asked excitedly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes. That Harry kid was with me when we broke into Gringott's," Hermione said dryly. "But I really don't want to have to escape a-dragonback again, so we need to figure out an alternative."

"This sounds like an epic tale of derring-do," Sirius said with a grin. Hermione sighed.

"Not really. I was terrified the entire time, and I cried while we were riding the dragon," she said flatly. Lily nodded sympathetically.

"But, you broke into _Gringott's_ and escaped on a _dragon_," James said, as though Hermione couldn't recall what she had done. She shook her head at him, and turned to Moody.

"The diadem is the easiest, if Riddle's already applied to be the DADA professor," Hermione said hopefully. He frowned slightly.

"I'm not sure, we'll have to ask Dumbledore about that…and you seem a bit leery of him," Moody said carefully, his eyes on Hermione. The Marauders all turned to look at Hermione in surprise. Hermione sighed heavily and ran a hand over her face.

"Dumbledore is a complex man," Hermione said slowly, as she sifted through what she ought to say, and what she should probably avoid. "He is a great wizard, but he isn't infallible. Unfortunately, a great many wizards and witches are willing to act as though he is. Even Riddle respects Dumbledore's power."

"He made mistakes then, in your time," Moody said somberly, still watching her face and brooding over what he saw there. Hermione snorted.

"One might say that," she said shortly, thinking of Harry.

"Fairly tragic mistakes," Moody amended himself thoughtfully. Hermione nibbled on her lip, and she and Moody had a staring competition for several moments.

"There are some things that one cannot forgive," Hermione said stiffly. Moody noted the way her eyes flicked briefly to Sirius. He nodded slightly.

"Very well, I think we have enough to begin," Moody growled in his deep voice. "Our first targets will be the ring and the diadem. I'll talk to Dumbledore, and try to suss out whether or not Riddle ever came to him for a professorship. Maybe I can pretend it's to help me figure out more about the Horcruxes. For the necklace, Black needs to contact his brother. That will need to be somewhat secret and in a neutral location."

"I have a couple ideas," Sirius said quietly. "I'll owl him, and see if he'll agree to see me."

"Very good," Moody said approvingly. "Now, Frank says you convinced his mother to duel with you?"

"Yes, Augusta's been wonderful," Hermione said enthusiastically, a wide grin on her face. Moody's face was inscrutable.

"Have you beaten her yet?" Moody growled. Hermione shook her head.

"Nope," she said with another grin. Moody snorted.

"Huh," he grunted. "Are you willing to duel with this lot?"

"Um…Remus and Sirius, sure," Hermione said with a nod. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter…I guess so?"

It was amazing the sort of information that a little observation could provide, Moody decided. So far he'd already learned that this girl who looked as though she could have graduated with these kids had been tortured at Malfoy Manor, betrayed by Dumbledore, and that she'd never met James or Lily Potter. Moody found that to be a curious piece of information since she had admitted to being in their home, once. He could tell that she knew Black, Lupin, and himself. She trusted him the most, and treated him like an authority figure. She treated Lupin with a great deal of respect, and Black with affectionate tolerance. He didn't doubt her comments about the basilisks or breaking into Gringott's either, like some might have. The way she said things, in a matter-of-fact manner while she talked about the Horcruxes, convinced him more than anything else. It was plain to him that the Horcruxes were the important piece for her. Everything else was periphery because her eye was on the big prize—destroying Voldemort.

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" James snorted, and Lily blushed.

"But we're Remus and Sirius?" Remus said with a quirked eyebrow. Hermione shrugged. Then she frowned and looked at the Marauders gravely.

"If we…if we change things…will you lot make sure that Harry and I are still friends?" she asked meekly. "He's my best friend in the world, and if I go back and he doesn't even know who I am…"

"If you ever do get back, which you probably won't because Dumbledore seemed to doubt it," Moody growled from his place, "the boy won't remember any of the things you do."

"Oh, he'll still be Harry," Hermione said with a smile of such love and affection that the Marauders couldn't help but smile back. She chuckled and shook her head. "I have no doubt he'll figure out something interesting. He has a way of attracting trouble."

"He's not your boyfriend, is he?" Lily asked curiously. Hermione started to laugh and couldn't stop.

"Merlin, no!" Hermione gasped out, clutching her stomach. "I love Harry more than anything, hell, I'd die for him, but he's more like a brother than anything else. He feels the same way, he's told me."

"All of this is purely academic," Remus said with a frown. "Dumbledore wasn't sure if it was even possible to send you back. What if you're stuck here?"

"Then I'm stuck here," she said with a sigh. "I'll figure it out, I always do."

"What does that mean?" Lily asked slowly, confused. Hermione smirked.

"It means that Remus here called me the 'brightest witch of her age', and Sirius called me a 'bossy, know-it-all little swot'," Hermione explained dryly. Both men looked at her in surprise, and James chuckled.

"It sounds like them, that's for sure," James told Lily. She nodded.

"It sounds like their describing the same girl, even," Lily observed with a small smile. "Remus would admire her intelligence, and Sirius would be irritated by it."

"I like smart women," Sirius protested. Lily snorted and exchanged a look with Hermione.

"Not when they're getting the better of you, you don't," Lily argued with a shake of her red hair.

"And not when they're telling you off at 2 a.m.," Hermione added. Sirius blinked at her.

"2 a.m.?" He echoed. "Why would you be telling me off at 2 a.m.?"

"You were drunk, and you mistook my bed for yours," Hermione explained with a raised brow. James and Remus started laughing.

"He probably knew exactly where he was," James chortled. Hermione narrowed her gaze speculatively at Sirius who tried to look as innocent as possible.

"I doubt it," she said finally. "I was only fifteen, and I was sharing a room with a fourteen year-old girl."

"Probably not, then," James admitted. "Sirius is a lot of things, but he prefers his woman to be legal."

"Even when he wasn't," Remus added _sotto voce_. Sirius punched him in the arm and glared at him. Moody cleared his throat, and Hermione immediately looked guilty.

"Sorry, sir," she said automatically. She stood up, and transfigured her clothes into her standard workout outfit. The large phoenix on the front of her shirt drew a few glances, and because it was just a t-shirt her arm holster for her wand was clearly visible. She flicked her wand and her hair was pulled back into a tight, high ponytail. "Who's up first?"

Sirius and Remus flipped a coin, and Sirius was the first to try and come after her. He was very, very good, but she knew all his weaknesses. Sirius Black was hot-headed, he fought with his emotions instead of channeling his emotions into the spells. Hermione was able to beat him after fifteen minutes of intense dueling. He'd gone for a perceived weak spot, and she nailed him with a conjunctivitis curse and then followed it with a body bind.

"Excellent strategy, Granger," Moody allowed with a grimace for Sirius' caterwauling. Hermione immediately cast the counter curses and held out a hand to Sirius. He took it gingerly and clambered to his feet. "If the enemy can't see, it makes it that much harder to hit his target."

"You're vicious when you duel," Sirius muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Hermione snorted, and Moody shook his head in disgust.

"What are we missing?" Remus asked quietly, looking between Moody and Hermione who both seemed to find something amusing in Sirius' statement. Moody took a long look at Hermione.

"When was the first time you had to fight for your life, girl?" He asked quietly. Hermione bit her lip.

"Fifteen," she said quietly. She lifted her shirt just high enough so that they could see the scars on her lower sternum. "We fought Death Eaters. Dolohov gave me this as a memento."

"So you learned how to duel from fighting Death Eaters?" Lily asked faintly, her eyes wide with sympathy.

"Er, mostly?" Hermione said with a shrug. "It's not that big a deal, most of my friends did, too."

"So you all use battle tactics when you duel because usually you were fighting Death Eaters?" Moody asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, they were casting to kill, and we were using stupefy. It could easily have been a slaughter if we hadn't gotten some last minute back up," Hermione explained with a brief flick of her eyes to Remus and Sirius. Moody's eyebrows rose.

"I see," he said thoughtfully. He frowned at Hermione and sighed. He for one, thought that saving lives was a good thing. He wasn't sure why Dumbledore was so against it, and it kept bothering him that Dumbledore seemed to hold the lives of others so cheaply. "The information you've given us today will be incredibly helpful, despite the misgivings of others. Thank you, Granger."

"It's my pleasure, sir," she said quietly, a light blush on her cheeks. "If we can stop even a few people from dying, it will have been worth it."

"Do you need me to take you back to the Longbottom Estate?" Moody asked politely. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No, sir, I think I can find my way," she said dryly. Moody nodded.

"I'll be in contact. We'll want to hit the Gaunt place soon," he said firmly. She nodded.

"Of course, sir," she agreed.

**FP/HG/GP**

The apparition point near the Longbottom Estate was not one of the most interesting places to hang out, but Fabian and Gideon had been there for most of the day. Fabian spun a small rock lazily in the air, and sighed heavily. He and Gideon had been summarily tossed out of the Longbottom Estate this morning by Augusta Longbottom who had been in rare form. She wasn't there. Frank had snuck out to speak to them, and explained what little he knew. They had screwed up royally. Hermione Granger already knew all about magical twins, and really had thought that they were fighting over her. Well, they sort of had been, only it was more like fighting over who got to spend time with her, not who _got _her. No, they'd known from the moment she dropped into the Order meeting that she was someone special. Gideon looked over at him sympathetically. If they'd blown it with Hermione, well…Fabian didn't even want to think about that.

Never in his life had Gideon been this attracted to anyone, and it wasn't all about sex, either. He wanted to be near her, to talk to her, to listen to her opinion about everything. He thought about her before he went to sleep and it was her amber eyes he wanted to look into when he woke up in the morning. Hermione Granger had wormed her way into his life in a matter of days, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. What if she found a way to go home? In her world, he'd be an old man. Well, not old as far as wizards are concerned, but old as far as she was concerned, and that was all that mattered. He frowned. What if she stayed? If she stayed…with them—the happiness that bubbled up in him at the idea of her staying with the both of them made him a little nervous. How could he fall this far, this fast? If he was any judge, Fabian felt the same way he did. Gideon scuffed his shoes in the dirt. _Where was she_? Was she avoiding them? Merlin, he hoped not. The crack of apparition made Fabian and Gideon turn at the same time to see Hermione wearing black pants and a clingy black t-shirt with a large phoenix on her chest. They blinked at her in surprise.

"Hermione," they both began, and then they looked at one another. Fabian nodded at Gideon, and he turned to face her. She was frowning at the both of them, and she looked unhappy. Brilliant.

"Erm, we inadvertently gave you the wrong impression last night, and we wanted to straighten things out," Gideon began carefully. "That's why we're here, together."

"I see," she said shortly, and stood there, waiting. Fabian glanced at his brother and made a 'please continue, you git' motion with his hand. Gideon rolled his eyes and turned back to Hermione.

"We, er, we both want you, together. Um, last night was more because Fabian wanted to spend time with you as well, not that you were with me," Gideon said slowly. He closed his eyes, he sounded like an idiot.

"What Gideon is trying to say is that…well, I was an ass, and I'm sorry. I just, I wanted to be near you, and our Aunt Muriel was an absolute nightmare, and I found myself jealous of my nephews because they got to sit next to you, and I behaved badly," Fabian confessed in a torrent, afraid that Hermione would leave. Gideon turned to stare at him.

"You were jealous of _Bill_ and _Charlie_?" He asked in surprise. Fabian shrugged and blushed.

"_They_ got to spend two hours talking to her. I got maybe five minutes, and I completely biffed it," Fabian muttered in irritation. Gideon opened and then closed his mouth. He turned to Hermione and spread his hands in defeat.

"We've tried to get him help, but they say he's a hopeless case," Gideon said with a shrug. Hermione was watching the both of them with an inscrutable look.

"You know, you are both very lucky that Fred and George explained so much to me, and that I had to help them get over muggleborn witches that they fell for, or I'd probably be telling you both to kiss off right now," Hermione said flatly.

"They are the best of nephews," Fabian agreed immediately. "Seriously, we're buying them matching brooms when they're old enough."

"Hmm." Hermione was watching the both of them, and butterflies were galloping through Gideon's stomach.

"Does this mean…you're willing to give us a chance?" Gideon asked hesitantly. Hermione turned and focused the brunt of her attention on him. He stared into her whiskey-colored eyes and felt the rest of the world drop away. The entire world was in those eyes, and they were all that mattered. She tossed her head in irritation, and his heart dropped.

"Oh! Yes, fine!" Hermione snapped, tossing her hands in the air. Gideon started breathing again, and shot a relieved look at his brother. "Bloody hell, how can you do this to me?"

"How can we do what?" Fabian asked curiously. Hermione growled and waved a hand between herself and the two of them.

"This! Whatever it is, stop it! It's not fair!" Hermione's voice was escalating with her frustration until she was not quite yelling at them. Fabian and Gideon stood completely still and waited for her to stop ranting at them. She stood, staring at them, her chest heaving, an angry expression on her face. Fabian walked up to her, pulled her against him, and kissed her.

When Fabian kissed Hermione, he felt his focus narrow to her and nothing else. As his lips moved over hers, he felt something 'click' inside him. His heart was pounding in his chest, but she was pressed so closely against him that he could feel her heart keeping time with his. She tasted sweet like honey, but that didn't make her a marshmallow. She was aggressive, kissing him back, nibbling on his lips, stroking his tongue with hers. Arousal hit him swiftly, and he could feel himself growing hard, and hoped that she didn't notice. She pulled back and stared at him, her whiskey-colored eyes warm with desire so that they looked almost golden.

"Definitely not fair," she whispered softly.

That kiss spurred Gideon, who was not about to be left behind. He pulled Hermione, all unresisting into his arms and lowered his lips to hers. When he deepened the kiss, Gideon felt something…almost like a puzzle piece that slid into place with an audible 'click'. Gideon was a serious kisser, he paid attention to detail, he left no corner of her mouth ignored. Hermione's fingers slid into his hair, and tugged slightly, causing him to groan in her mouth. He could feel her smiling through their kiss, and nipped at her lower lip in retaliation. Gideon was hyper-aware of every inch of his body that touched Hermione's. He pulled back reluctantly, his breathing slightly erratic.

"I think it's you," Fabian offered, watching Hermione with his blue eyes blazing. Gideon cocked his head at her.

"Did you feel it?" He asked curiously. Her expression darkened, but eventually she nodded. He sighed, and shook his head. "I think it's us."

"Us?" Fabian repeated with a slight frown. Hermione was scowling.

"But it was so stupid," she protested. She looked up at Gideon with uncertain eyes. "There's no such thing…is there?"

"All I know is that I felt _something_," Gideon said with a shrug.

"So, you're free tomorrow night, right?" Fabian asked suddenly. Hermione thought for a moment and then nodded.

"Not anymore, you're not," Gideon said firmly. Hermione sighed, but nodded again.

"We'll pick you up at seven. We'll owl you details in the morning," Fabian informed her cheerfully.

"Goodnight, Hermione," Gideon said softly, and snuck in another kiss.

"Hey!" Fabian protested. Hermione pulled him in for one more kiss.

"Tomorrow," she breathed at them both, and then headed for the Longbottom wards. They looked at one another after she'd gone and grinned.

"Tomorrow."

_A/N: The awesomeness of NASA and Curiosity have pushed back work on my other story, but I will post a chap for that one tomorrow, come hell or high water. _


	6. Excursions of All Sorts

The evening was a little cool, and Hermione sighed again as she watched the stars in the winter sky. The garden at the Longbottom Estate always calmed her, and she loved walking through them. It was seven exactly, and suddenly in front of her floated two roses, bound together with a silk ribbon. She reached out and took them, and felt the familiar hook-in-the-navel sensation of portkey transportation. She stumbled only slightly, but there were warm hands at each elbow, ready to steady her. She glanced up at Gideon who was on her right and smiled slightly at him. He was grinning wickedly at her, and it made her stomach tighten pleasantly. Fabian was smirking at her, his eyes glinting at her with dark promise.

"That was unusual," she said smartly, one brow raised sardonically.

"We felt that you deserved far more than just 'usual'," Gideon said smoothly. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"And we also wanted to make sure that you knew how serious we were," Fabian added. "Shall we go?"

"We're not there yet?" She asked curiously. They grinned at one another and turned to her.

"Almost love, just over this hill," Gideon assured her.

They each took one of her small hands and tugged gently as they hiked up the hill in the dark. Once they crested the hill, Hermione could see a number of little glowing, floating lights clustered next to a large body of water, most likely a lake. She paused for a moment, and the Prewett twins tugged on her hands again. She moved forward, and as they drew closer she realized that it was some sort of picnic. She could see a large blanket spread out on the shore, pillows strewn on the blanket, and a large basket. Hermione felt her lips curve in a pleased smile, and it would not leave her face. The little floating lights looked like the little tea lights that her mother had used in potpourri burners when she was a child. The fleeting thought of her mother hurt only a little, and she mercilessly shoved it aside. Now was not the time to dwell on her parents and their rejection of her, and her method of saving them from the fallout of the wizarding war. Fabian's fingers tightened on her hand and she looked up at him quickly. He was watching her face warily.

"You don't like it?" He asked softly, and his tone was laced with disappointment. She laughed and shook her curls at him.

"It's lovely and definitely unusual," she replied looking around curiously. He led her to the blanket, and the minute she stepped on to it, she was no longer cold. She gasped in surprise. "Why that's amazing! How did you do it?"

"Ah, ah, ah," Gideon wagged a finger at her. "If we reveal all our secrets on the first date, how can we keep you coming back for more?"

"I have a feeling that that won't be a problem," Hermione said dryly. Fabian's chuckle was deep and made the hairs on her arms stand up.

"That's just the sort of thing a wily temptress would say though, isn't it?" He asked huskily as he helped her sit on a wide pillow. Hermione couldn't help the snort that escaped her.

"Oh yes, the wily temptress, that's me," she replied. Gideon's eyes smoldered at her from across the blanket.

"I don't know," he drawled, "you look pretty tempting."

Fabian handed her a glass of wine, which Hermione sipped at rather than respond to Gideon. The sneaks had made the picnic out of tiny little bite-size treats. They took turns feeding her, and she rolled her eyes at them and allowed it. Fabian was holding out a tiny quiche and she accepted it neatly, her tongue swiping his finger. His eyes darkened, and he started to lean toward her, but she turned to Gideon who had a delicate little shepherd's pie that looked like it might have been more at home in a dollhouse. She accidently bit the pad of his thumb, but instead of swearing, he moaned slightly. Fabian took that as a hint to move closer with a wee savory tart. She managed to take that from him and suck the tip of his finger at the same time. Both men were watching her, and she was feeling warm and tingly.

"Fabian, Gideon," she said softly. They moved closer. "I've never believed in this kind of thing. It just always seemed like so much rubbish."

"Mmm, utter rot," Fabian agreed as he nuzzled her neck, his breath warm on her skin. She shivered, and tried to command her heart to stop racing.

"Complete crap," Gibeon murmured as his lips skated over the tender skin of her wrists. A small moan escaped her when he nibbled on the soft skin he found there.

"Do you…mmm, that's nice…do you believe in it?" She asked curiously. Fabian's lips were at her ear, and left off nibbling on her earlobe to answer her.

"Yes, I guess so. I mean, there are so many things that you muggleborns scoff at and make fun of, but it bloody well happens in the wizarding world. Magic changes things, love. We've got unicorns and goblins. Merlin wasn't just a story," Fabian's deep voice rumbled in his chest, which was pressed against Hermione's back and she leaned against him to increase the feeling. Gideon laughed and Hermione turned to him curiously.

"We had a friend who was in Hufflepuff who was muggleborn, and his little sister loved those stories, oh you know, the girl that lived in the fireplace. We could easily have a godmother that could transfigure a pumpkin into a coach, and mice into horses. And while I personally think glass shoes are bit impractical, they're easy enough to make with a bit of magic," Gideon explained further.

"I never really thought about it quite like that," Hermione said softly, an awed expression on her face. "D'you suppose Crumpled-Horn Snorkacks and Heliopaths really do exist?"

"Well we're nowhere near Sweden, so it would be hard to look for Snorkacks," Fabian said with a slight smile.

"And Heliopaths are fire creatures. They would die if we tried to transport one to England," Gideon pointed out. "I've seen pictures from a friend of mine who was exploring magical fluctuations near volcanoes in the Ring of Fire."

"Heliopaths are real?" Hermione squeaked, her eyes wide and her expression slightly guilty.

"Certainly they are," Fabian affirmed. "They've been well documented, Hermione."

"Oh," her voice was small and subdued.

"Does it frighten you? The idea that this might be more than just attraction?" Gideon asked softly, his knuckles skimming her collarbone. She bit her lip and looked at both men who were watching her carefully.

"It should scare me," Hermione admitted at last. "It goes against everything I've ever believed in. I've always been a strong supporter of free will. _This_, I mean, this means we don't have any free will, and I hate the idea of that."

"Never really thought of it like that," Gideon confessed, his thumb stroking along her collarbone. Fabian was pressing light kisses to the column of her throat.

"I've always thought of it a little differently," Fabian said after a moment. Hermione turned her head so that she was staring into those dark blue eyes. His face was so close to hers that she could see the freckles on his lips and she wanted to taste them. She blinked and focused on what he had said.

"How did you think of it?" She asked curiously. Fabian looked over her shoulder at Gideon for a several minutes and then he turned back to Hermione.

"It's hard to describe," he said at last. "Okay, so take me and Gid, we're a part of one another, whether we like it or not. Our magic is linked, shared between us. From what I gather, we're a bit more tightly bound than muggle twins, and it's the magic that does it. Look at all the twins at Hogwarts, there's not a single muggleborn there that won't have their twin with them. The magic just doesn't work that way. Do I blame Gid because I'm linked with him like that? Do I blame the magic? Why do I have to blame anybody? Why does it have to be a negative thing?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said at once, thinking of Fred and George and how they were a part of one another. They both had plenty of free will. Merlin knew she'd heard them argue with one another plenty.

"So does this, with us, have to be so very bad?" Fabian entreated, his eyes on hers.

Hermione thought about that for a moment. She'd never really fully considered the idea of a soulmate, except to say that such a thing was ridiculous and to make some sort of nasty, cutting remark about liking to have her own mind—thanks so much. Of course…as she got older she stopped saying things like that out loud because she'd learned that sometimes it was just better to be polite than to be right. Soulmates had always been on the shelf of rampant fantasy along with Heliopaths and Crumpled-Horn Snorkacks, but if those things existed…if soulmates existed…then how did she feel about them? Or perhaps, more to the point, how did she feel about Fabian and Gideon Prewett? She had felt the strange little click when each one had kissed her, the sound or sensation of a piece locking into place. She felt calm, at peace…content…around them, and she hadn't felt like that since before the war ended. She skittered away from that quickly. This was definitely the wrong time to think about the war and its effects on her life. She looked over at Gideon who was carefully not looking at her, his face meticulously blank, as though he were afraid of what her face might reveal. Fabian looked wary and uncertain, which bothered her. So far, both of these wizards had exuded confidence, charm, charisma in spades. They reminded Hermione of the Weasley boys. Bill had that confidence and the sex appeal. Charlie was charming and the twins were certainly charismatic.

"No," she began, but she was cut off by Fabian's lips on hers.

His kiss was fierce and determined, like he was trying to convince her of the rightness of their situation with his lips alone. Hermione had to admit, with the very small part of her brain that was still able to think semi-coherently, that it was a brilliant argument and that she had not defense against it. He nibbled on her lower lip and she felt her entire body tingle with pleasure. There was an insistent tugging sensation, which she realized was Gideon gently but firmly pulling her away from Fabian's lips and towards his own. Gideon's kisses were determined to sway her and her body completely agreed. There was just as much determination and confidence in Gideon's kiss, but he was teasing her as well. Playful licks and nibbles acted as punctuation for the argument of his kiss, and she could no longer remember nor did she care why they were trying to convince her of anything—she just hoped that they'd never stop. When he pulled away from her, she whimpered in protest. She opened her eyes and they were both smirking at her in satisfaction.

"We probably should get you back," Fabian said with a sigh. Hermione frowned slightly and Gideon grinned at her.

"Mrs. Longbottom can be rather testy," he explained with a wink. Hermione smirked.

"That's just because she doesn't like you," she drawled smugly. "She feels you're a bad influence on Frank, and she's warned me to be careful around you."

"The woman has a memory a mile long," groused Fabian.

"Accidentally do one teeny-tiny thing to her best friend and she never lets you forget it," muttered Gideon. Hermione just gave the two wizards a knowing look, and they flushed with embarrassment.

"We were fifteen," Fabian growled. "Surely she realizes we've grown since then."

"Regardless, we need to get Hermione back so that her opinion of us doesn't sink any lower," Gideon said with a heavy sigh.

**FP/HG/GP**

"I want you with James and Remus on this one," Moody growled brusquely, and Hermione gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement. "Sirius has managed to contact his brother, and as you suggested he's open to working with us."

"You're going to have the two of them go to the cave, sir?" She asked cautiously. Moody frowned.

"You have a better idea?" He asked shortly. She shook her head.

"No, sir, I don't. Just make sure they know _Incendio_ and they'll be fine.  
Also, make sure they take Kreacher with them. I know that Sirius hates Kreacher, but Riddle discounts elf magic, and he doesn't guard against its use," Hermione warned him. Moody looked at her appraisingly.

"Smart idea, girl. I'll make sure Black does so. Anything else?" He asked gruffly.

"No, sir. Except what we discussed before: keep Dumbledore away from the Gaunt ring. I'll turn it over to you, but I won't give it to him. If he tries to get James or Remus to bring it to him, I won't be responsible for my actions," Hermione said flatly, a martial gleam in her eye. Moody's lips twitched just slightly.

"Noted."

"Have you turned up anything about the other Horcruxes, sir?" Hermione asked anxiously. Moody frowned.

"We've acquired the diadem. We're trying to garner information about the diary and the cup, but our informants don't have any information yet," he said slowly, his frown growing more pronounced.

"Have them be very careful, sir," she said warily. "Several people from this time period went missing, and no one ever knew what had happened to them."

Moody grunted and made a small note on his tablet. He looked at her, his eyes narrowed and she looked fearlessly back at him. He nodded to himself and put the small tablet in a pocket.

"So you're stuck here, are you then, girl?" Moody said thoughtfully. Hermione gave a half-hearted shrug.

"It looks that way, sir," she said noncommittally. He grunted.

"Ever thought of being an Auror?" He asked after a moment. Hermione snorted in amusement.

"The Ministry and I don't get along," she said shortly, her eyes flat and hard. His lips twitched again.

"Well, you might want to think about what you're going to do…after," Moody growled at her. Hermione bit her lip.

"I'll think about it."

**FP/HG/GP**

Being the sort of wizard that he was, it was rare for anyone to defy Dumbledore, or to even disagree with him. He found that he didn't necessarily care for it. That chit of a girl who'd dropped out of the air into his life seemed to take perverse pleasure in it. He worked hard for a long time to receive the respect and admiration that he had now. He didn't necessarily want the Minister of Magic position because that meant that he was a very public figure who would be held accountable for everything that happened. He preferred to work behind the scenes where both his power and his responsibility were a bit more nebulous. How dare she imply that he didn't care about the people who had died and undoubtedly would die in this war? Sometimes sacrifices were necessary. He of all people knew that.

Then there was the whole business about the Gaunt ring. Really, the witch had almost too much cheek to insist that he not be allowed anywhere near it. He could feel it calling to him, calling to the Elder Wand. Their mission had been completely successful, but young Potter and Lupin had told him that their mission leader, that dratted girl, wouldn't allow either one of them anywhere near the ring.

"She treated it as though it were coated in poison," Lupin had said with a slight frown. "She never touched it with her bare hands and she insisted that we keep it in a double-lined silk bag."

"She never allowed you to carry it then," Dumbledore had pressed in his irritation. Lupin shook his head.

"No, sir, she said it was too risky, that the ring was far too dangerous," Potter had explained earnestly, his hazel eyes guileless.

Dumbledore had known true frustration then as his every attempt to approach Moody had been sharply rebuffed. He didn't like the look in Moody's eyes anymore. Whenever the Auror looked at him, there was a wary, veiled something in the younger man's eyes. Dumbledore decided straightaway that he didn't care for that look at all. He certainly didn't care for the way it seemed to be spreading, and he wouldn't even place a bet as to where that look had originated. He frowned darkly. He needed to get ahold of that ring. Perhaps he convinced the Order as a whole that he had perfected some sort of way to destroy the Horcruxes safely, and used the ring as an example of its efficacy? Mmm…maybe. Still, that girl was becoming entirely too much of a problem. He needed to sort her out as soon as possible. After all, he decided sanctimoniously, if she altered the timeline too drastically there might be sever repercussions. Perhaps he might look into some options. After all, if anyone could figure out how to send the meddlesome creature home, it would be him.

**FP/HG/GP**

"Hermione, if you're free, I'd like to speak with you," Augusta Longbottom said sternly from the library's doorway. Hermione looked up from the book she'd been reading avidly and smiled.

"Of course, Augusta. This can certainly keep until later," Hermione said, rising fluidly from her place at the table. August nodded primly, turned and swept out of the room, assuming that Hermione was following her. She walked swiftly to her private study and ushered Hermione into a large comfortable wingback chair.

"You are alone here," Augusta said with a slight frown. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," she acknowledged. Augusta's lips pressed together and she looked at her folded hands for a moment.

"I feel some responsibility to you as your hostess," Augusta said at last. "It would be remiss of me to ignore the possibility that you might be stuck here forever. If that happens, we need to consider your future."

"My future?" Hermione echoed blankly.

"Yes, dear, your future," Mrs. Longbottom said firmly. "You aren't betrothed in the future, are you?"

"Er, no," Hermione said weakly. "Muggles don't betroth their children, Augusta, and I _am_ a muggleborn."

"They don't?" Augusta said in surprise, her eyes widening in shock. "But…how do they marry off their offspring?"

"Er, they don't, ma'am. The…er…the offspring decide that for themselves," Hermione explained cautiously.

She remembered that Neville had had a hard time with his grandmother over this very subject, and he had been less than pleased to discover that he had a betrothal contract with Hannah Abbott from the time he was born. Fortunately, Hannah had desperately wanted out of the contract because she was madly in love with Parvati Patil, or Augusta Longbottom might have managed to pull it off. Mrs. Longbottom stared at her for several long moments, her mouth slightly open and Hermione smiled weakly at her.

"I…er…I see," Mrs. Longbottom said at last. "The Prewett twins seem to be enchanted with you. If you were anyone else, I would hide you away for your own good, and send those miscreants packing. However, I think that you just might be the perfect witch for the both of them. You certainly wouldn't put up with any of their guff. In fact, I would find it difficult to believe that they could ever put anything passed you."

"Most likely not," Hermione said with a smirk. Augusta Longbottom nodded slightly.

"I would be honored if you would allow me to speak for you on your behalf when they offer for you," Mrs. Longbottom continued.

"Offer for me?" Hermione repeated with a frown. "What do you mean, offer for me?"

"Dear child, one would have to be exceptionally limited in understanding to miss what you three have amongst you. I am not limited in anyway," August said airily, her chin lifting slightly. "They are pureblood boys, and their mother has raised them right, they _will_ offer for you, and soon."

"Yes, but what does that mean, offer for me?" Hermione demanded, having a horrible suspicion, but hoping that—just this once—she was terribly wrong.

"For your hand in marriage, dear girl, what did you think I mean?" Augusta explained.

"Marriage?" Hermione squeaked, her eyes wide. "What…wait just a minute! I've only been here for a week! I've been on one date. ONE! Yes, it was a nice date, but…marriage?!"

"I fail to see what's so upsetting about all of this. Many young witches would be thrilled to find themselves in your position. The Prewett Estate is rather well off, and the boys have an adequate inheritance. If I had a daughter, I'd certainly consider an alliance with the Prewett family for her," Augusta admonished her young houseguest.

"But…but I," Hermione trailed off weakly, her eyes wide.

"Now what sort of dowry do you have?" Augusta plowed on as though nothing were wrong.

"I don't have a dowry," Hermione said softly, still in a state of shock. Augusta looked shocked herself.

"No dowry?" She said in a hushed voice. "Oh, dear. Well, let me look into that for you, Hermione. I wouldn't worry about it right now."

"Worry?" Hermione repeated faintly.

"Yes, I'll think of something," Augusta reassured her, patting her on the hand.

"Splendid," Hermione muttered.


	7. Slips of the Tongue

Practice with the Marauders and Mrs. Lily Potter the next week proved eventful. Hermione was making them work in groups and had automatically paired herself with Remus because she knew his fighting style quite well, and was comfortable anticipating how he would react to hexes, jinxes and curses. James, Sirius and Lily had all died before she'd started fighting and they were all unknowns to her. She was trying to mimic the streetfighting that took place in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Moody was watching, as usual, and paying careful attention to everything they did. Hermione didn't realize how much she was giving away to both Remus and Moody as they worked together. She and Remus were hiding behind an overturned table and she was whispered so quietly that a human would never have been able to hear her.

"Where are they?" She asked him in her nearly silent whisper. "Point, don't speak."

He frowned at her and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Listen for their heartbeats," she whispered. "We know which one is Moody, he'll be low and steady. Listen for the others, they'll be excited and their heart rates will be accelerated."

"What?" He whispered, his eyes wide in horror. She glared at him and lost her temper. Perhaps what happened next was ultimately her own fault. She nonverbally cast a spell on herself that increased her hearing, and she was able to determine where James was. She shot an Incarcerous in his direction and that was the last thing she remembered.

"Hermione?" Came a worried voice from somewhere up above her. She blinked blearily and her vision swam. She saw two faces floating above her with messy black hair and glasses. She blinked again and her vision was still blurry. What the hell had just happened to her?

"Bloody hell, Harry. Do you always have to go full-bore?" She rasped at him.

"Sorry, not Harry," said the voice. She blinked again and the face above her came into focus.

"Oh. Too right," she muttered. "What happened?"

"You shot a spell at James and Lily blew you across the room and into the wall," offered Sirius with a grin at the red-headed witch who was wringing her hands and crying.

"It's okay, love," James was trying to soothe his wife. "I thought it was kind of cute."

"I don't understand what's wrong with me," Lily wailed, clutching James shirt. Hermione sat up and winced slightly. Her gaze narrowed on the two of them.

"First time this has happened?" Hermione asked suddenly, her tone professional. Lily turned pink.

"The last couple days, my magic's just been off," Lily whispered, flushing. Hermione glared at the young woman.

"So you went into a potential battle situation with your magic all wonky?" Hermione demanded, the warrior in her incensed that anyone could be that stupid. "You do realize that it could just as easily have been Remus or Sirius? Or even Moody? Or alternatively, your magic might fail you completely leaving you utterly defenseless?"

"I have an appointment at St. Mungo's tomorrow," Lily whispered, embarrassed. Hermione started slightly and then looked sharply at both James and Lily.

"You mean you don't know why it's off," Hermione asked carefully, the wheels in her brains visibly whirling rapidly as she considered possibilities. She frowned slightly and then a light went off and a surprised look came over her face.

"No," James said, worry for his wife evident on his face. Hermione smirked and looked at Moody.

"Take her out. She's done with field rotations for a while," she said dryly. His eyebrows rose for a second and then he nodded.

"Of course," Moody agreed. The rest of them stared at Hermione in anger.

"Look, you just can't come in here and do that," Sirius began to rage and James wasn't far behind. Soon all of them were yelling at her until Moody gave a piercing whistle. Hermione turned to Remus and quirked a brow at him.

"Remus, how does Lily _smell_?" She asked pointedly. Lily glared at her.

"Are you saying I _stink_," Lily growled at her. Hermione rolled her eyes. Remus just stared at her.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he said stiffly. Hermione threw her hands up in the air.

"Smell her!" She yelled at him. Remus glared at her, but Moody gave him a pointed look. He took a step closer to Lily and sniffed. The look on his face was worth every second of Lily, James and Sirius' glare. Hermione smirked wider at Moody who allowed a tiny quirk of the lips. Remus mouth dropped open and he stared in wonder at Lily. She looked nervously back at him and then looked up at James.

"What is it?" James asked fearfully. Remus turned to his friend and the happiness there was almost painful for Hermione to look at. She'd never seen her former professor that open, that happy or that unburdened.

"It's a cub," he said reverently, turning back to Lily whose eyes had widened in surprise.

"A baby?" she said softly, looking down at her stomach. Hermione grinned to herself. _Hi, Harry_! Moody looked at her for a moment and then nodded slightly to himself.

"Are you sure?" James asked uncertainly, worry still there in his eyes. Hermione snorted.

"If you don't believe Remus' nose, that's your problem. Take her to the appointment," she said shortly. "It'll be good for her and they can explain all about accidental magic during pregnancy."

"Do you know it…er…him or her?" Lily asked suddenly. Hermione chewed her lip for several long minutes.

"Yes," she said after a minute.

"The jersey, the Quidditch jersey you wore the night you came," James said suddenly. "It belonged to my kid, didn't it? My kid is a seeker for Gryffindor?"

"Was, yeah," she muttered.

"What do you mean _was_," Lily asked fearfully. Hermione looked up at her in surprise and snorted.

"Well, we've…er…graduated, haven't we?" She pointed out. "Once you graduate, they won't let you play for your house anymore."

"But you were wearing my kid's jersey," James pressed, frowning slightly. Hermione sighed heavily and frowned.

"I don't want to talk about this," she muttered.

"Is he…or she…special to you?" Lily asked softly, her earlier embarrassment forgotten in the wonder that this strange woman knew her child. Hermione stared at her for a moment and then her eyes became veiled and hooded.

"Yes," she said shortly.

"Boyfriend? Or…you know…girlfriend?" James asked thoughtfully. Hermione grinned and snorted.

"Are you guys fishing for the sex of the baby?" She drawled, her hands on her hips. James and Lily flushed, and shrugged. Sirius and Remus were still staring at Lily, trying to wrap their heads around the whole concept.

"Are you worried about horrifying James and Lily about their kid?" Sirius teased her with a grin. "He takes after me, doesn't he? I bet he's your boyfriend, why else would you be wearing his jersey?"

"Insanely overprotective brother would be more accurate," she said finally after chewing on her lower lip for several long minutes.

"So he is a boy?" James asked eagerly. Hermione snorted thinking about the year they'd spent looking for Horcruxes, and accidentally catching Harry in a number of potentially embarrassing situations.

"Yeah, he's a boy all right," she muttered. She turned to Moody and sighed. "They're going to be useless for the rest of the day. Do you have anything you want to talk to me about?"

"Is there anyone else I should pull from rotation?" He asked dryly. Hermione flushed.

"Er…Alice. I don't know if she realizes yet, but Nev…er…the boys were born at about the same time," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure about anyone else…Molly's pregnant with Ron, but she's not an active Order member. I'm not sure, Moody."

"Well, we'll keep an eye out for fluctuating magic," he growled and nodded to himself.

"Good idea, constant vigilance," Hermione said absently. Moody started slightly and then nodded.

"Exactly," he growled in agreement.

**FP/HG/GP**

_The next day_

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"What are you doing?" Remus asked curiously, cautiously approaching her from the side. She glanced up at him and Sirius and sighed.

"Making lists," she said finally. Both men frowned slightly at her.

"Lists of what?" Sirius asked in confusion.

"Well, not all of us have vaults at Gringott's to draw on," Hermione said dryly. "I need a way to make money, especially if I'm stuck here for the rest of my life."

"So the lists are ways to make money?" Remus asked curiously.

"Well, I have obvious disadvantages," Hermione explained. "I don't have my NEWTs scores to show anyone because I haven't sat for them yet. No one knows who I am here, and no one is going to trust my abilities sight unseen. I'm going to need to figure out a source of income where people won't care about my NEWTs score, just the finished product. So these lists are my skill sets, my strengths and weaknesses."

"Er…what's wolfsbane potion," Sirius asked curiously, reading through a list of potions she could successfully brew.

"Oh, it helps with werewolf transformations," she said absently as she wrote on a different sheet, and checked a book at her elbow. "It allows them to retain their sense of self while transformed."

"It does _what?!_" Sirius and Remus bellowed at her, and she covered her ears in self-defense, her eyes wide in shock.

"I…it helps," Hermione began, but Remus interrupted her, his face very close to hers and his eyes almost golden.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" he growled in her face. Suddenly, Hermione was standing behind brilliant blue robes and Fabian and Gideon were glaring at Remus.

"Is there a reason you need to be that close to our witch?" Gideon bit out between clenched teeth. Hermione sighed loudly.

"It was _one date_!"

"You, shush," Fabian told her over his shoulder and turned to glare menacingly at Remus. Hermione made a choking noise and both Fabian and Gideon glanced at her in surprise.

"Are you okay?" Gideon asked with concern, shooting another glare at Remus.

"I. am. Fine," Hermione bit out between clenched teeth. "Now knock it off."

"Knock what off?" Fabian asked in surprise.

"The overly possessive pureblood routine," Hermione snapped. "It does not amuse. And where did you two even come from?"

"Mrs. Longbottom said you were here," Gideon said self-righteously, but he'd relaxed slightly and was turned toward Hermione.

"And we arrived and he looked a bit too close for comfort," muttered Fabian.

"It was my fault," Hermione said with a sigh. "I didn't realize…or I wasn't thinking about the fact that wolfsbane was still in the testing stages at this time. Well…that and I was trying so hard to give them their space."

"Give who space?" Fabian asked with a slight frown.

"The Marauders," she muttered with a wave of her hand. Sirius and Remus blinked and flushed.

"How do you…," Sirius started and then stopped. "Harry?"

"Harry," Hermione agreed.

"So you…you know everything?" Remus asked nervously. Hermione looked from Sirius to Remus to Sirius and smirked.

"I know _everything_," she said smugly. Both men flushed again.

"When you say everything," Sirius began slowly, not looking at Remus. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh dear Merlin, Padfoot, yeah, just like that," Hermione moaned loudly tossing her head back and making an ungodly noise deep in her throat. Remus' face went up in brilliant flames. Fabian and Gideon were staring at their girlfriend with darkened eyes. She looked at both Sirius and Remus and raised an eyebrow. "Silencing charms? Not some people's strong suit."

"Sorry?" Sirius offered humbly. Hermione snorted.

"No worries," she said with a shrug.

"So, you two are a couple then?" Fabian asked with relief thick in his voice.

"They're a couple all right," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Now leave them alone."

"This wolfsbane potion," Remus asked hesitantly, as if he didn't dare hope. "You really know how to make it?"

"Well, sure," she said. "It's incredibly complicated, of course, but I _was_ the youngest person to receive their mastery in the history of the Ministry."

"You have a potions mastery?" Sirius questioned her sharply. Hermione nodded and he grinned at her. "That's it then. You don't have to have NEWTs scores to sit a mastery because the mastery has been around longer than Hogwarts. You just need to take the mastery proficiency again. Then you can get a job pretty much anywhere."

"Really?" Hermione asked in surprise. For some reason, she had assumed she'd have to retake her NEWTs as well. The idea that she just needed to redo the potions mastery made excited her.

"Trust me," Sirius said firmly. Hermione started to giggle, and Remus and Sirius blinked at her.

"Sorry," she gasped out. "He just…he said…trust me…and it's _Sirius_."

Remus and Sirius both started laughing at that, and Fabian and Gideon frowned slightly and stared at one another. These two, even if they were a couple, seemed awfully chummy with _their _Hermione—and neither twin liked it. However, their Hermione also didn't seem to appreciate it when they expressed their displeasure. She was such an odd witch, and they were uncertain where they stood with her. She didn't seem to have any patience at all with the way things were done. Mrs. Longbottom had cautiously approached them when they'd stopped by the Longbottom estate and suggested that they be careful about proceeding with her houseguest. Fabian was all for throwing himself in headlong and damn the consequences. Gideon pulled back cautiously and wanted to test the waters, so to speak. Now here they were and she was irritated with them for acting like normal gentlewizards. Were they supposed to let other wizards paw her or attack her? Were they supposed to just leave her alone and hope she came home alive? Were they supposed to back off romantically and let her make all the moves? Gideon could feel a raging headache forming in his temples. Hermione glanced at him and moved toward him. She snuggled against his side and his arm slid around her waist automatically.

"Now why did you both come over?" Hermione asked him, looking up at him with those whiskey-colored eyes. Gideon paused, hesitant. Fabian rolled his eyes at his brother and turned to Hermione.

"We missed you," he said succinctly.

The smile that blossomed across her face made Gideon wish that he hadn't hesitated, and had just admitted why they had come. That feeling solidified when Hermione moved from his side and kissed Fabian on the cheek. The smug bastard had the nerve to grin at Gideon and his eyes narrowed as he contemplated taking a beater's bat to his twin's head. He purposefully ignored the knowing looks on the kiddos' faces. Bunch of smart-ass brats. Then she turned toward him and kissed him as well, and he felt his skin tingle pleasantly and a grin that matched Fabian's spread across his face.

"Do you have plans tonight, love?" Fabian asked Hermione. She shook her head.

"No," she said with a raised eyebrow. "Why?"

"So suspicious," Fabian sighed, tsk-ing gently. Hermione's gaze narrowed and her lips tightened. Then she relaxed and smiled smugly.

"The funny thing about being surrounded by overprotective men is that they _all_ want to show a girl a spell or two 'just in case'. Please remember that your sister has seven sons, I had Harry, Neville, Remus, Sirius, Kings, Moody…well, hell, when it comes to that even Snape showed me a couple things because he was worried about something happening to me when I lived at number 12," Hermione observed mildly. Sirius and Remus reacted almost comically to _that_ little bit of information.

"_Snivellus_ ?!" They both bellowed at her. She winced and Fabian and Gideon both wrapped arms around her, glaring at the younger men.

"Well sure he was a Death Eating double agent, but I think he was genuinely concerned. To be honest, I think he was convinced that Sirius was a raving nympho who would be overcome with lust just because I was female and living under his roof, and I think he prayed every night that I'd actually use the spells on him," Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted. "Like that would have _ever_ happened."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Sirius drawled, and then winked at her, despite the death glares that he received from Fabian and Gideon. The he frowned. "What do you mean, Death Eating double agent?"

"Snape's a Death Eater, yeah? Well, after L-er…um…well," Hermione stumbled and her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. He'll never switch now, will he? Okay. So yeah, he's a Death Eating bastard. Never mind."

"Something happened that turned him into a double agent?" Remus asked sharply, his eyes on Hermione, narrowed in concentration. Hermione knew that her former professor was incredibly smart and she swallowed nervously. "Something you think you've already prevented?"

"Never mind," Hermione said desperately. She turned to Fabian and Gideon. "Let's go do something fun. Florian Fortescue's? We can share a sundae?"

"Sure," the twins said easily.

"Wait!" Remus said urgently, his eyes still on Hermione's face. "The only thing you've prevented is Peter Pettigrew's betrayal of Harry's parents. Why would Snape give a damn about that? The only thing Snape has ever cared about in his life is—"

"Leaving now!" Hermione shrieked and ran for the door as though dementors were after her. Remus chased her and managed to grab her arm as she apparated. They were standing in Diagon Alley and he had pulled Hermione toward him so that their faces were inches apart.

"That's it, isn't it?" Remus demanded, his eyes searching her face. "Harry…he's Lily and James' kid, isn't he? You almost said her name, I know you did."

"This is beginning to become a habit that I don't much care for," Fabian snapped as he jerked Hermione out of Remus' hands, and shoved her behind him. This time, instead of being annoyed, she cowered. Remus snarled in frustration, his hands fisting at his sides. Sirius put a hand on Remus' arm.

"Were you right?" Sirius asked urgently, his eyes on his lover. Remus frowned darkly at Fabian and Gideon.

"I think so," Remus said finally. "She won't say."

"Well, it makes sense. I can't imagine being anybody else's godfather," Sirius said logically. "And it explains why she'd be wearing Potter's jersey. We know that Harry's her best friend slash overprotective brother. If they were the same person it would make a lot of sense."

"So in your time, Lily and James are…are…," Remus couldn't continue, and the realization of what that all meant made Sirius look ill. He glared at her through Fabian and Gideon and she could feel his fury directed at her. "Say something!"

"Not here," she hissed at him, peering over Fabian's shoulder. She looked up at the twins. "Where can we go?"

"I suppose…we could go to our place. We don't use it much, Mum doesn't want us to leave Prewett's Folly just yet," Gideon said thoughtfully. Hermione nodded eagerly.

**FP/HG/GP**

The Prewett twin's place, if one could call it that, was rather substantial looking, and it made Hermione slightly nervous. They showed her into a large living room sort of chamber and she paced nervously for several minutes. Then she turned to Fabian and Gideon, and bit her lip.

"I haven't talked a lot about where I come from for a lot of reasons," she said nervously. "What I have done…I've done for Harry…I—I _love_ him. He's been the focal point of my life for almost ten years."

"We understand, I think," Fabian said slowly. She nodded.

"It's okay if you don't. Very few people ever actually understood the three of us. They always tried to paint me as some sort of scarlet woman, but anyone who knew us knew what a joke that was. I think Sirius and Remus understood because they'd had that kind of relationship with James…but…no one else ever really did. Maybe Fred and George," she said absently to herself.

"You wanted to save Harry's parents," Remus guessed. Hermione bit her lip.

"You don't know how much of a pain in the ass Wormtail became over the years," she said bitterly. "How many times I wished Harry hadn't been so bloody noble and had let the both of you kill the bastard."

"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked with a frown.

"Pettigrew didn't just betray Lily and James, he betrayed you all," Hermione said bitterly, her face twisting in pain. "He—he—well, you already know and then after, he framed Sirius who was sent to Azkaban without a trial. Remus didn't know that the secret keeper had been changed and he…he believed the lie."

"What?" Both men had turned almost grey and sat down heavily.

"Everyone believed the lie. Dumbledore never once questioned the cockamamie story about you betraying James and Lily, and then killing Peter and those muggles. It was really twisted if you ever sat and thought about it, which I did, because he was all for giving Snape a second chance—when he was a proven Death Eater, Dark Mark and all. I don't think they ever checked you for a Dark Mark, even," Hermione's voice was slightly shaky and she wrung he hands together.

"How did I get out?" Sirius demanded. "If I'm living with Harry and you at number 12, what the hell happened?"

"The Weasley family won the lottery and went on a trip to Egypt to see Bill and Charlie. Their photo was in the paper, and Sirius saw the picture of young Ron Weasley, and his pet rat," Hermione said in a low, flat voice. "He knew it was Pettigrew, and he knew Pettigrew was at Hogwarts…with Harry."

"I bet he went wild at that," Remus said darkly, thinking of Sirius' temper.

"He did indeed. He escaped from Azkaban in an attempt to hunt down Peter. After his escape, he was on the run for a bit, but not before he'd established a relationship with his godson. Harry loved Sirius so much…he represented everything Harry should have had," Hermione's voice broke slightly and she stopped talking.

"But," Remus began, but Hermione shook her head at him.

"Look, you can't tell anybody I told you this. If you do, Dumbledore's going to use a magical slingshot to send my ass back to wherever. This is the kind of thing they're always going on about with time travel. Not that I paid attention, really. I figured that long-distance time travel was just theoretical in nature. That and I always figured that what we ended up with was pretty damn awful, and any chance to change that would be worth it," Hermione said urgently, her eyes intent on Sirius and Remus.

"Okay," Sirius said thoughtfully with a nod. Hermione frowned.

"Not even James and Lily," she said sharply. Remus sighed and looked unhappy.

"It's never going to happen, now, so why upset a pregnant woman with that kind of information?" Hermione pointed out. Remus protective instincts kicked in and he nodded.

"Thank you, for telling us this," Sirius said slowly. "We'll be careful, we won't tell Dumbledore. I just…thank you, for coming back. You're going to save Regulus' life, too. I haven't told him that part because I figure he'd just sacrifice himself on purpose."

"I had no choice in the matter," she said dryly, glancing at Fabian and Gideon who were looking smug. "And that's the sort of thing that you two need to watch out for. Don't assume that everything's cut and dried anymore. I've screwed up far too much for the future to be the same as when I left it. If I ever see it again…it's going to be very, very different."

"You said thousands," Remus said softly, thinking intensely, recalling that first meeting with this strange, young witch. "You weren't joking at all, were you?"

"No," she whispered. The four men frowned slightly and looked at one another. She moved closer to Fabian and Gideon who pulled her to them and each wrapped an arm about her.

"You still in the mood for ice cream," Gideon murmured by her ear, his voice a low rumble against her back.

She nodded and buried her face in his chest. Today had been really draining and emotionally exhausting, and ice cream sounded good at the moment. She needed something mind numbing. Something to take her mind off of everything else. She knew that tonight she would have nightmares. There was no way around it, really. She'd just make sure she put up her silencing charms and hope for the best. It wasn't really surprising, after all that they had been through, that the three of them had nightmares every now and again. She hadn't had any since she'd come here, but she'd been so busy it had distracted her from everything else.

"Come on, love, let's go be silly for a bit," Fabian said firmly, as though he could tell what she was thinking.

"Silly sounds wonderful," she agreed, and put her hand in his.


	8. The Ties that Bind

_December 1979_

Time was a funny thing, Fabian decided as he laid across his bed and stared at the wall. He and Gideon had only been dating Hermione for a matter of months, and they both felt as if they had known her for forever. She was feisty and stubborn, intelligent and capable—she was everything they'd looked for in a witch for years—and she had come to them out of thin air. The only thing that bothered him was the way that Hermione would sometimes say "in case I go back, here's something you ought to know." He didn't want her to ever go back. He wanted her to stay with them. Fabian knew that Hermione liked them just as much as they liked her. He knew that she recognized and acknowledged that they were soul mates, even if she didn't seem to care for the whole concept very much. In fact, he was pretty sure that he loved Hermione, and he thought that maybe Gideon felt the same way. As long as their witch didn't do anything ridiculous, like sneak off to the future behind their back or something, Fabian was pretty sure that he and Gideon could convince her that she loved them, too.

"Fabian?" Gideon poked his head in the door and looked at his twin.

"Yeah, Gid?" Fabian sighed and stared at the wall some more.

"Er, you do want to go Christmas shopping. For the, er, the _thing_ you and I talked about?" Gideon asked him cautiously. Fabian frowned slightly.

"What _thing_ are you talking about?" Fabian asked in confusion. Gideon just looked at him. "Oh! The _thing_!"

"You know, boys, I'm not as dumb as I look," Ginevra Prewett said dryly, with a stern look at each man. They blushed brilliantly and hung their heads.

"No one said that, Mum," Gideon protested weakly. Mrs. Prewett sniffed and looked at both boys again.

"I know that you've already done all your shopping for your nephews and for your sister and her husband. I know you ordered Daddy's present and you're just waiting for it to come in, and I'm pretty sure you've actually had mine hidden somewhere in your room for months. So I can only imagine that you're getting something for that sweet Jean MacDougall that you've both been seeing," Ginevra Prewett said sharply, watching the two of them. They paled slightly and looked at one another. "A-ha! I was right! Now, why haven't you offered for the girl? Is there something I don't know about?"

"She's muggleborn, Mum," Fabian began carefully. Mrs. Prewett snorted inelegantly.

"And your point? She's a charming girl, my grandsons positively adore her. Even Molly approves of her, and you know she's never felt that there was anyone who was good enough for either of you," their mother said firmly, her hands on her hips.

"Well, yes, but Mum, she doesn't get the whole concept of the betrothal thing. Mrs. Longbottom tried to talk to her about it and she got really upset," Gideon tried to explain.

"Upset? Upset, how?" Ginevra Prewett demanded.

"Er, well, Mrs. Longbottom says that she doesn't have a dowry," Fabian offered nervously.

"And she thinks we haven't known each other long enough to get engaged," Gideon explained.

"That's ridiculous! Most matches are arranged when the couple are just children. I went to my first year at Hogwarts knowing that I was betrothed to Cincinnatus Prewett who was a sixth year, by the way. You can imagine the ribbing he received from his dorm mates," Ginevra Prewett pointed out dryly. Fabian and Gideon shook their heads.

"Mum, a lot of the families aren't doing it like that anymore," Gideon said gently. "You let Molly marry Arthur Weasley when they were barely out of Hogwarts."

"These are troubled times," Ginevra muttered darkly, rubbing her arms against the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Too right, Mum, these are troubled times, and Jean is…uncertain…about the future," Fabian said firmly.

"It's the dowry, isn't it? Is she embarrassed about that? It's not like we're an ancient house," Ginevra began to mutter to herself. "I mean, maybe if we were Blacks or Potters or something."

"Mum!" Both men were mortified.

"Fine, go do whatever it is you're going to do. Pay no attention to your poor mother who only wants what's best for you. It's not like I've dedicated my entire life to your happiness or anything," Ginevra waved them out the door, frowning darkly. Fabian was certain he'd heard her mutter something about contacting Mrs. Longbottom.

"Merlin's noble staff," Gideon muttered in disgust as they apparated in Diagon Alley.

"Don't worry about that now, come on," Fabian tossed over his shoulder as he headed to the jewelry store.

Nevin's, a small discrete jeweler's shop on a side street off of Diagon Alley, was the place that Fabian and Gideon had gone to for Hermione's Christmas present. They knew she was leery about the whole betrothal thing so they'd come to Nevin to have a necklace made for her. The whole idea was perhaps somewhat sneaky on their part. The twins knew that among muggles a ring was usually used as the betrothal gift. Hermione was definitely a little skittish about that, so they'd decided to sort of circumvent that with the necklace. It was a delicate silver chain with a small medallion inscribed with the Prewett family coat of arms on the obverse, and their motto on the reverse: fortis cadere, cedere non potest (the brave may fall, but cannot yield). To other purebloods, this necklace would scream that their witch was off-limits—that she had been well and truly spoken for.

"It's perfect," Gideon said in satisfaction, his finger tracing their coat of arms lightly. Fabian looked at the small medallion and pictured it around their witch's neck. He grinned at his twin.

"It is," he agreed.

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**FP/HG/GP**

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"You know my grandchild, don't you?" Augusta asked suddenly, frowning slightly at the young witch who had moved rapidly from houseguest to friend. In fact, privately Augusta thought of the young woman as more of an adopted daughter than anything else.

"What?" Hermione looked up from the book she was reading in surprise. Her eyes had widened in surprise, her mouth had dropped open, but there was a slightly guilty look about her that convinced Augusta that she was right.

"You do! You know my grandchild! Were you friends?" Augusta demanded. Hermione flushed and sighed.

"Yes," she said finally.

"You're not going to tell me anymore, are you?" Augusta asked with a dark frown.

"No, ma'am, I'm not. You don't want to know, trust me," Hermione said a little hoarsely, her eyes seeing things that Augusta couldn't.

Over the months, Hermione had grown to really like Frank and Alice Longbottom, and she considered them friends. Frank was a bit like his mother: strong-willed, brave, determined. Alice was just as strong, courageous and noble. They both had wicked senses of humor, and when you got them and the Prewett twins together Hermione ended up laughing until her stomach hurt. To look at the vibrant young couple that she knew, and remember the fragile husks that haunted St. Mungo's broke Hermione's heart. She couldn't let that happen to them, she just couldn't. And then there were the twins. Oh, Merlin, the twins. She loved them. She knew it was dangerous, and probably wrong, but she'd gone and done it anyway. Hermione was afraid to give her heart to them completely, however, because she felt the looming threat of her possible return to the future. What if she married them, loved them for all she was worth, and then got sent back to a future where they were dead? She couldn't handle that, she just couldn't, so she kept them at a distance. She was dating them, true, but she tried not to let it get too serious, and she tried to remind them that she might not get to stay. That was always guaranteed to upset both men. Their eyes would get all tight, and their jaws would clench, and they'd get very quiet.

"It's bad, then," Mrs. Longbottom said matter-of-factly. Hermione looked up at her friend, and bit her lip.

"It's bad," she said finally, rubbing her temples.

"Your boys, too, I think," Mrs. Longbottom said after a moment. "I've seen you with them. You'll relax for a minute, and I can see how much you love them both. Then something makes you remember and you'll stiffen up, and pull away from them. It hurts their feelings—they're not quite sure why you're doing it."

"You figured it out, though?" Hermione asked carefully, her heart racing. Mrs. Longbottom frowned at her for a minute, her sharp eyes taking in Hermione's features.

"When?" She asked simply. Hermione swallowed hard and her eyes burned.

"I'm not sure…right now was…chaotic. There are very few records. Some people just disappeared. I heard the names, but they're not names anymore. They're people." Hermione stopped talking and just sat there silently, blinking rapidly. Mrs. Longbottom patted her shoulder.

"That's the part about war that everyone forgets," Augusta said softly. "Every name, and all those nameless as well, they're all people."

"What if I'm sent back?" Hermione whispered.

"Are you planning on going back?" Augusta asked curiously.

"It'll all be different," Hermione said, frowning slightly. "I've changed so much."

"But you yourself aren't planning on going back?" Augusta pressed her. Hermione frowned and looked up at her friend.

"_I _ can't," she said honestly. "There isn't a way to reverse the spell that sent me here. It was meant to help me find my soul mates, and I have."

"Then why do you keep talking about it?" Mrs. Longbottom asked curiously. Hermione sighed heavily.

"I don't know. I just keep thinking that this isn't real, that it won't last," she confessed, worrying the edge of her jumper. Augusta snorted in amusement.

"We're just as real now as we will be in twenty years, dear," she said dryly. "Hermione, if there isn't a way back, would you consider something, please?"

"Yes, ma'am?" Hermione asked curiously. For the first time in Hermione's experience, Augusta Longbottom looked uncomfortable.

"I've spoken to Frank about this and he agrees completely," Augusta began nervously. "I want you to think about this though. Don't just reject it out of hand. Think about it very seriously."

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said slowly, trying to figure out what Augusta was talking about.

"I would like to adopt you into the Longbottom family," Augusta said carefully, her stern face tense. Hermione stared at her for several long minutes, the wheels in her head spinning wildly.

"What…like…I would be your daughter?" Hermione asked a little stiffly. Her own parents had rejected her, and that had hurt quite a lot. She understood where they were coming from, but it had still hurt her deeply. She loved Augusta Longbottom as a mother-figure, or grandmother-figure, but she'd never even considered that Augusta felt the same way.

"Yes, and Frank's sister, too," Augusta said dryly. "Although I probably shouldn't mention that, or you'll reject us out of hand."

"No!" Hermione said sharply and shook her head. "No, I'm not rejecting you. I…yes."

"Yes?" Mrs. Longbottom echoed in surprise, her eyes widening. Hermione nodded.

"Yes."

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**FP/HG/GP**

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Christmas at Prewett's Folly started out fairly quietly. It took Hermione a few tries to get used to being called Jean, and Ginevra Prewett's eyes looked far too sharp and discerning for Hermione's peace of mind. She had tried to help out in the kitchen, but Mrs. Prewett ruthlessly kicked her out and told her to go find Fabian and Gideon. Hermione ended up getting lost and she ended up stuck in a small study with a window that looked out over the backyard. She had closed the door behind her, and as soon as she had, the door had disappeared. There were books crammed haphazardly into a small bookcase next to a tidy, little desk. Hermione sat in the chair uncertainly and looked around the room. She wasn't certain what the room was, exactly, but it seemed cozy and Hermione decided that she liked it. As she had no other choice, Hermione started to peruse the bookshelves and after several moments actually squealed in excitement. All of the books on the shelves were books that Hermione had never seen before. All of them were old, and some of them Hermione had read about in other books and they had been referred to as 'lost'. Her hands were trembling with anticipation as she pulled _Destruentes, Obscuram Arts: VIOLENTUS Defensio Contra malum magicis_ off of the shelf. As she sifted through the book she squealed again when she spotted the chapter on Horcruxes. This was it. This was the information that Moody and his Aurors had been searching for.

"I love you, Prewett's Folly," she said passionately. "You are the best house in the world."

The house didn't answer her, per se, although at that point Hermione wouldn't have been overly shocked. It did however allow a door to appear. It was a slightly different door than the one she'd originally come through, Hermione was fairly certain, but she opened it and peeked through.

"Auntie Jean!" Bill and Charlie shrieked at the top of their lungs and attacked her.

"Oof!" Hermione grunted as she fell under the onslaught of the two young wizards.

"Oi! Don't damage our witch!" Gideon called from the couch. He and Fabian helped her carefully to her feet. Bill picked up the book she'd dropped and handed it to her with blushing cheeks. Hermione gave each boy a quick hug.

"It's okay, I'm fine," she insisted to both boys who were now looking at her with worried eyes, convinced they'd hurt their 'Auntie Jean'.

"What's that, love?" Fabian asked curiously. Hermione turned to look at him and he swallowed hard. Her beautiful eyes were liquid pools of gold and brown, and excitement made her cheeks pink. Her full lips were parted and the look of longing and desire on her face almost unmanned him in his mother's parlor.

"It a lost book," she whispered feverishly, clutching it to her chest. "It's supposed to be one of the most important books ever written about combative magic against the dark arts. It has a whole chapter on destroying the, er, you-know-whats."

"Really?" Gideon asked, surprised. "Where on earth did you find it?"

"I got lost and ended up in a little study," Hermione explained happily. "I love this house!"

"Dad?" Fabian turned toward his father who came over, a curious expression on his face.

"Yes, son?" Cincinnatus asked.

"Her—er, Jean says that she got lost in the house, but she ended up in a room that helped her with a major problem we'd been having in the Order," Gideon explained in a low, urgent voice.

"Is that possible, Dad?" Fabian demanded. Cincinnatus frowned for a moment.

"I'm not sure, I'd have to look at Trajan's notes, but it sounds like the sort of thing he'd do. He was fascinated by the magic used to make Hogwarts, and I believe he incorporated some of it in this house," Cincinnatus mused thoughtfully.

"I should go home and start studying," Hermione was muttering under her breath, her fingers caressing the book in her hands. Fabian and Gideon looked like someone had just kicked their puppy.

"You're leaving now?" They asked sadly. Hermione blinked and shook her head. She looked up at her boyfriends and blushed slightly.

"Er, no?" She offered. She bit her lip. "I can read it later. It's just that this book is going to help us so much."

"Good, come on then," Fabian said firmly, dragging her toward the dining room.

The Prewett-Weasley families gathered around the dinner table and Hermione smiled at Fabian and Gideon who were both sitting with her this time. Aunt Muriel was there, but Ginevra had apparently spiked her mulled wine with a pleasantness potion. The harridan was actually being kind and considerate to everyone. Hermione was trying to hold back giggles as Muriel inquired politely after Arthur's work and Molly's current pregnancy. Molly was fairly far along, but not so hugely pregnant that she was miserably uncomfortable. Fabian and Gideon each had one of the twins and were currently feeding Fred and George mashed potatoes and pumpkin juice. After dinner, the family moved back into the parlor where the family's tree was lazy spinning with its magic twinkle lights merrily blinking. Gifts were exchanged among everyone, and Hermione was surprised to receive several gifts. Molly had knitted Hermione a jumper with a great 'H' on the chest. It rather reminded her of the jumpers Molly had made for Harry, which made her feel a bit nostalgic. In the past, Hermione had never actually received a jumper from Molly before and she was embarrassed when a couple tears streaked down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Molly," she managed to choke out. She hugged the young mother tightly and then returned to her place between Fabian and Gideon. They looked at their witch with concern but she waved them off. "I'm fine. Honestly."

Another mystery was solved that night when Fabian and Gideon gave their sister her present from them. Hermione had learned over the years that Molly Weasley's family clock was unique in the wizarding world. Mrs. Weasley had never really been eager to discuss where her clock had come from and now Hermione knew why. Fabian and Gideon had made it for her themselves. It had probably broken her heart to look at the clock and know that her brothers would never be on the clock again. Hermione was impressed with the complex magic required to craft it, and she praised them enthusiastically. Both men blushed and ducked their heads.

"If we had known how excited you'd get over the clock we never would have gotten you this," Gideon muttered as he thrust a small box at her. Hermione took the box cautiously and blinked at the Prewett twins. She opened the box carefully and gasped, her eyes widening.

"How did you know?" Hermione demanded.

"How did we know what?" Fabian asked, confusion all over his face. Hermione picked up the medallion with the Prewett coat of arms and pointed to it. Heraldic otters were curled playfully on either side of the shield.

"How did you know?" Hermione repeated sharply. Gideon slid a comforting arm around her and Fabian stroked her hair gently.

"Her—er, Jean, this is the Prewett family coat of arms, and on the back is our motto," Gideon said soothingly, turning over the medallion so that she could read the Latin inscription. Her face paled dramatically as she read the inscription.

"That sounds a fair description of the Prewett family," she whispered.

"What's wrong, love? Why are you so upset?" Fabian asked her in a low voice. She looked up at him and bit her lip. "It's okay, whatever it is."

"It just surprised me," Hermione muttered. She stood up and pulled both men with her into the now empty dining room. She pulled her wand out of its holster and flicked her hand. "Expecto patronum!"

A playful, silvery otter swam around the room and nudged Hermione gently before it disappeared. The Prewett twins stared at her for a moment and then cast the same spell. Their own patronuses flitted playfully about the dining room, tumbling over one another before dissipating.

"We always thought we had otters because it's our family's totem animal. The Prewetts have always been warriors. The motto and our male naming customs sort of point that out, but because we've always been warriors we also have the philosophy that you should live to the fullest today, for you may die tomorrow. That's where the otters come in," Gideon explained carefully.

"You probably did. Er, have the otters because of your family associations. I always thought it was odd that that was my patronus. I mean, when people think Hermione Granger the very last thing that comes to mind is playful or fun-loving," Hermione muttered.

"Oh, I don't know," Gideon said thoughtfully. "I think you can be pretty playful."

"Definitely fun-loving," Fabian added after sharing a wicked grin with his twin.

"I'm sorry for going completely mental," Hermione said softly, looking at the medallion. "It's lovely. Will you put it on me?"

"So you accept it?" Gideon asked carefully, glancing at his brother.

"Yes, I accept it," Hermione murmured absently, tracing a finger over the Latin inscription.

She completely missed the utterly satisfied expressions on her boyfriends' faces or she would have been immediately suspicious. They placed the medallion around her neck and she enthusiastically thanked the both of them. The feel of Fabian's and Gideon's lips against hers and the desire that raced along her nerves took all of her attention, so that she didn't even notice the tiny tingle of magic when the clasp of the necklace closed and it settled on her neck. When Fabian hauled her against him and plundered her mouth with his tongue she moaned against his lips and pressed against him. Gideon was nibbling the sensitive skin on the back of her neck and she shivered in pleasure. Hermione wasn't a delicate maiden, but she'd been cautious with the Prewett twins because her of her precarious position here. If she was to stay, as Mrs. Longbottom had suggested, perhaps she ought to rethink that as well.

"Come along, love, we should probably go back in," Fabian pointed out with obvious reluctance. Hermione's heavy lidded eyes and bruised lips weren't helping his resolve at all.

"We probably should," Hermione agreed.

When they returned to the parlor, everyone had hugged Hermione, which confused her slightly, but she knew that the Weasleys and the Prewetts were both warm, affectionate families so she hugged everyone back. Even Percy, who was normally shy around her toddled up to her and hugged her leg with a shyly murmured 'Auntie Jean'. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, and Hermione found herself enjoying Aunt Muriel's presence—an occurrence that she never could have foreseen. Fabian and Gideon escorted her home due to the incredibly late hour, and the flimsy excuse to sneak a passionate holiday snog with their witch. Hermione walked into Longbottom Manor with a silly smile stretching her lips. She hugged Augusta Longbottom who'd waited up for her. The older woman's eyes went straight to her necklace.

"Isn't it lovely? The boys gave it to me," Hermione said with a happy smile. Augusta frowned slightly.

"Hermione, dear, did Fabian or Gideon say anything to you when they gave it to you?" Augusta asked tartly. Hermione thought for a moment.

"They asked if I accepted it," she admitted slowly. "Why?"

"Did you?" Augusta demanded. Hermione blinked.

"Did I what?"

"Did you accept it? Did you say yes?" Augusta clarified impatiently.

"Er, yes?" Hermione confessed, her eyes wide. "Why? What did they do to me?"

"You've accepted their suit," Augusta muttered, still staring at the necklace.

"Their what? Are they giving me clothes? Like you do with house elves?" Hermione demanded. Augusta snorted in amusement.

"No, dear. It means they're pursuing you. You're not quite betrothed, but you're on your way," Augusta explained. Hermione paled and then flushed red in anger.

"Why those sneaky little-," Hermione began angrily, but Augusta held up a hand.

"It doesn't bind you in any way, Hermione, if that's what you're thinking. It's more…oh…marking their territory, let's say," Augusta said gently, hoping Hermione didn't disembowel the twins before she could marry them all off to one another. Hermione snorted.

"I'm still going to get them for this," she muttered darkly. Mrs. Longbottom patted her on the shoulder.

"Of course, dear. Now, I've had the Longbottom family lawyers draw up all the necessary paperwork. If you don't mind coming into my study, we can get the paperwork signed and shipped off to the ministry," Mrs. Longbottom said firmly. Hermione nodded.

They filled in all the lines that had been marked for their signatures, and Hermione noticed that Frank had already signed all of the paperwork as well. As soon as they were done, Hermione felt a light magical sort of rope, or string that settled over her, but tied her to Augusta. She could feel two other strings that she could tell from the feel of them belonged to Frank and Alice.

"That's different," Hermione murmured thoughtfully. Mrs. Longbottom's lips twitched.

"I take it you don't have any magical relatives?" She asked dryly.

"No, ma'am," Hermione said with a shake of her head.

"Well, you do now, Hermione Longbottom," Augusta said firmly. Hermione smiled at her and hugged the stern witch, who abandoned her taciturn exterior and hugged Hermione tightly.


	9. Accepting Fate

_A/N: Some have had concerns that I'm "Dumbledore bashing", but I respectfully disagree. To bash someone implies that I'm all out trashing that person's reputation. I don't think I've done that, per se. If you read all seven of JKR's books objectively, you have no choice but to question many of the choices that Dumbledore made. Several of his choices were spurious at best and criminal at worst, and the only excuse he ever offers for his actions is that it was all "for the greater good", which echoes his association with Grindelwald. I'm not trying to say that I think Dumbledore did any of it with purposeful ill intent. I think that perhaps he honestly believed what he was saying. However, he wasn't omniscient, omnipotent or omnipresent. He was a man, and just as fallible as any other man. I think acknowledging that adds to his believability as a character rather than detracting from it. _

_January, 1980_

"So what are your primary concerns?" Alastor Moody growled at the young woman across from him.

"The Horcruxes need to be destroyed quickly, and we need to engage Riddle in a final battle if you will," Hermione said seriously, frowning slightly. "We need to destroy him in a very public way. It needs to be very clear to his Death Eaters that he is, indeed, dead."

"There was doubt the first time?" Moody guessed astutely. The girl shuddered and her lips pressed together tightly.

"Yes, sir," she said finally. "You lost several people, including some Aurors, because some of the more…devoted Death Eaters refused to give up; they were convinced that your lot had him stashed somewhere."

"People you knew?" He guessed again. She shook her head.

"No, sir. When I was growing up, they were just names in a book. When I came here, and met you all, it made it seem all the more awful," she said haltingly, her voice a little thready.

Moody nodded, but kept his own counsel. It might be the Prewetts; Merlin knew that the girl had been seeing the twins for months. She was wearing their coat of arms around her neck, which was almost as good as a betrothal contract. Considering the girl was now a Longbottom, that betrothal contract couldn't be far behind. Whoever it was, she was attached to them, and horrified by what had happened to them. Or what could happen to them…or…blast! This sort of thing wasn't his cup of tea. He'd become an Auror precisely because it dealt with tangible things, and not with arithmantic formulae that made his head ache horribly.

"Anything else, girl?" Moody growled. She bit her lip hesitantly.

"Soon. It must all happen very soon, before…," she paused and twisted her hands in her lap.

The girl sitting across from him was an odd sort of creature, Moody acknowledged that willingly, but he'd seen her sort too many times over the years and he understood most of her idiosyncrasies. This girl—he couldn't quite bring himself to think of her as a woman, even if she technically was—had seen things that would scar people for life, and had experienced things that would break most people, and she had done most of it before she was a legal adult in the magical world. It was that, her battered psyche, that made him trust what she had to say. He knew and trusted soldiers who had survived their individual trials by fire far more than he'd ever trust diplomats, politicians and bureaucrats. He liked Albus Dumbledore and felt that he was a good, decent person, he'd known the wizard for a great number of years, but he thought like a diplomat and a politician. He didn't think like the people who did all the fighting and dying that he talked about. This girl was trying to save as many lives as she could, and Moody understood and appreciated that. Dumbledore's prating about the importance of 'maintaining the original timeline' made him want to hang himself. In the privacy of his own mind he felt that the all sacred, holy timeline could go fuck itself. He looked at Hermione and sighed.

"There's something big that happens soon, something you need to avoid?" He asked cautiously. Hermione bit her lip and he could almost see her mind spinning at the speed of light, calculating the consequences and possible outcomes of sharing information with him.

"Yes, sir, you could sort of say that," Hermione finally said dryly, her lips twisted in a slight grimace. He nodded and steepled his fingers, thinking.

"Right, we need to push his hand, and bring him out into the open. I'll have to talk to my people; we'll need to think about this a bit. Have to plan carefully," he was muttering under his breath and making notes on his small pad of paper.

"Sir?" She asked hesitantly, her flat eyes on his face. He stopped and waited. She licked her lips nervously and then leaned forward slightly. "I'd like to be there, sir, when it happens."

"Of course," he agreed calmly. She bit her lip and nodded, her hands twisting in her lap again. He snorted and shook his head. "Go practice with those degenerates for a while. Try and get them ready for what they're going to face."

"Yes, sir," she said with a slight smile.

Those degenerates were Black, Potter and Lupin. They were a good bunch of kids, but naïf and arrogant in their abilities. Moody thought that it was a good thing that he had Hermione. She was a tiny, delicate looking little thing, but she'd spin through the air like a little storm of power and knock all three of them on their asses with wide-disbursement stunners. Auror spells, those were, and Moody had a funny feeling that he'd probably been the one to teach her those. Either him or one of the degenerates she was using them on. Regardless, she made them wary, and they respected the power that she packed in her small form. Listening to her bark orders at them, stopping occasionally to kick start their brains and make them _think_ amused him more than anything else. Half the time he felt like conjuring a bowl of popcorn and offering snide commentary, but he felt that might undermine Hermione's authority during training, so he refrained. Besides, the Prewett twins usually did all that for him. For whatever reason, they enjoyed riding the three younger men, and took the mickey out of them so often that sometimes Hermione would stop training to tell them both off. He snorted to himself and got to his feet. The girl was right; they needed to get this started as soon as possible.

.

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**FP/HL/GP** (did you see what I did there? Didya?)

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A parade of presents had inundated the Longbottom estate since Christmas, but Hermione had yet to bend. The stern lines of Augusta Longbottom's face softened slightly as she walked through the Great Hall on her way to the informal dining room. Every table she passed sported a bouquet of flowers; all possible types and kinds, including some that were strictly magical, seemed to be there. The house elves were almost frantic, trying to figure out where to put all the flowers, and the flowers were just the tip of the iceberg. All of the jewelry was sent back, sight unseen, which forced the Prewett twins to become more inventive. They started sending her things that they'd made or invented themselves, and these presents she kept. Today they had sent the most substantial looking gift yet. It was a large parcel brought by one of their house elves, and Augusta had directed her staff to place it by Miss Hermione's place at the dining room table.

"Nimue's toes, Hermione! What on earth is that?" Frank asked her curiously when he came into breakfast. Alice followed him in and she blinked in surprise at the large package.

"I'm not sure, I just came in," Hermione said uncertainly, staring at the large package.

"Well, open it!" Alice encouraged her with a smile. Hermione nodded and opened the package.

Nestled in the brown paper was a clock just like the one that the twins had made for Molly. There was a hand for each of them, and Hermione knew that as soon as young Neville was born a hand would appear for him, too. At the moment, all of the hands were pointing directly at 'home', and Hermione felt her throat catch at that. _Home_. For too long, Hermione Longbottom née Granger had felt like a witch without a home. She didn't really belong in the muggle world, and she really didn't belong in the magical world. During the war, with her parents obliviated and living under assumed identities in Australia, she'd had no home at all. She'd lived on the run with Harry, and then in safe house after safe house, and then Grimmauld Place, but none of them was hers. After she'd found her parents and unobliviated them, and their prompt disownment of her and rejection of the world that she'd become a part of through her own blood, sweat and tears, she'd had nothing at all except Harry. He'd been her only family and she'd been his. They literally had no one else—everyone else was dead. She missed him to a degree, but if this was successful at all, he wouldn't really need her because he'd have his family, and Hermione felt that he deserved that. She'd like to be a part of his life, but she didn't necessarily want to be the only family he had. This clock was a reminder of the things she had gained here: home…family. She didn't realize she was crying until Augusts Longbottom's hand gripped hers firmly and Alice's arms were about her neck.

"It's a very fine clock," Frank offered mildly. "I don't believe I've ever seen one like it."

"There's one other," Hermione said softly. "Fabian and Gideon made them both. Their sister Molly has the other one."

"So it's for the family, then?" Frank asked, hoping desperately that getting her talking would stop the tears. She nodded and then smiled slightly at Alice.

"As soon as N-, er, the baby is born, h-it'll get its own hand, too," Hermione offered.

"I like it," Mrs. Longbottom said approvingly, thinking of the amount of worry and fear that this magical object would alleviate. "Would you be willing to let me hang it in the hall, dear? I think it might be useful if the whole family could see it."

"Of course, ma'am," Hermione said automatically and then blushed. Mrs. Longbottom had been trying, unsuccessfully, to get Hermione to call her mother, but it was an uphill battle.

"So the twins made this for you themselves?" Alice asked curiously. Hermione nodded, her fingers tracing the lines of the clock. "They must really like you. Have they offered for you yet?"

"Er," Hermione looked to Mrs. Longbottom who shot a disapproving look at her daughter-in-law for bringing up this sore subject.

"The Prewett boys are…what is it the muggles say? At loose ends, I think it is. They know our Hermione is a muggleborn and that she has specific beliefs and views about marriage, and they're not sure what to do. If she had been raised as a Longbottom, they would have offered for her long ago. As it is, they don't know what to do, but they don't want anyone else to get ideas about their girlfriend," Mrs. Longbottom had a funny look on her face when she said girlfriend. Hermione bit back a laugh. She knew that Augusta didn't really understand the whole girlfriend thing very well.

"So…you don't want to marry them?" Frank asked calmly, his face perfectly relaxed. However, Hermione could tell by the way he held himself that he was tense, upset. She thought she knew why; Frank had been best friends with the Prewett twins since before the three of them had gone to Hogwarts. Hermione bit her lip and thought carefully before she answered her adopted brother.

"It isn't that," she said slowly, trying to figure out how to explain her perspective. "Part of it is that I'm not from here, er, this time, and I wasn't sure if I would survive. I mean, some of the books on theoretical time travel infer that when time paradoxes are created the time traveler can erase themselves out of existence. If that happened I would just disappear, I'd cease to exist. Um, Dumbledore is really unhappy that I'm here, and he's very worried that I'm causing irreparable damage to the time line. There is the very real chance that he's trying to figure out a way to send me back. I wouldn't put it past him, really. If he perceives me as a threat, he'll feel duty bound to protect this reality. If you ignore all of that, there's also the fact that I'm a modern sort of girl and muggleborn to boot. In the time that I come from, women don't need a man to complete them and make them whole. They are their own people, and they work hard to be successful and accomplished on their own two feet. In the muggle world, overpopulation is a very real concern, and many people choose not to have children. The wizarding perspective—that family is important and continuing the family line is paramount to all other concerns is just so alien to me that I have a hard time dealing with it."

"But…the Prewett twins are your soul mates…so in a very real sense, you do need them to make you complete," Alice said hesitantly, as though she might offend Hermione by pointing these facts out. Hermione nodded.

"I know that now. I've been living in the magical world for ten years now…well, eleven I guess, but things like that still take me by surprise. It took me a little while to get used to it because the whole idea was just so ridiculous to me, but I get that here it really does happen. I understand it intellectually, and I acknowledge that it is true, but it's taken me some time to adjust and really accept it," Hermione explained.

"So it was the idea of betrothal contracts and an arranged marriage in general, the concept itself, that bothered you," Augusta pointed out, "it isn't the Prewetts that you object to."

"Yes, you've got it in one," Hermione agreed. "I acknowledge the bond with Fabian and Gideon, and I know that realistically it means that I'll have to marry them both, but I've been dragging my feet."

"You don't love them," Frank stated flatly, and again there was that tenseness to his body language that told Hermione he was upset.

"I…that's not it," she said with a shake of her head. "I just thought it would be ridiculous to meet people and then immediately marry them."

"You've been here almost a year," Alice pointed out uncertainly, frowning slightly. Hermione started slightly, her eyes wide.

"I have, haven't I?" she said thoughtfully. She looked at her adopted mother and nibble her lower lip. "Perhaps I should speak with them?"

"It might be for the best," Augusta acknowledged with a slight smile. "Merlin knows they've been driving their mother mad. Ginevra's sent me owl after owl complaining about them both."

"She has?" Hermione asked, a blush covering her cheeks.

"Indeed," Augusta said sternly.

"Oh dear," Hermione said faintly.

.

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**FP/HL/GP**

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Another day, another training session. Afterwards, Hermione was sitting on the couch talking to Sirius and Remus about what had happened during their training session. Lily had given up her training sessions somewhat gracefully, as had Alice Longbottom. Black, Lupin and Potter had grown rather fond of their trainer. She was just as gruff, just as short-tempered, as Moody was, but she had a way of explaining why they needed to do certain things certain ways that made a lot of sense to all three young men, and helped them to think about why she might choose one attack or defense style over another. In fact, that was usually what their wrap up sessions were like. Hermione would sit there on the couch and somehow manage to look completely clueless, like an ickle firstie, and she would ask over and over again: why? The trick, they had learned, was that their trainer usually had multiple reasons behind using specific tactics in specific situations. When they were able to guess _all_ of the reasons behind why she did something, she would smile and nod at them. In the beginning, those smiles had been non-existent. They were far more likely to get a loud sigh, an eye roll, or their trainer loudly begging Moody to give her someone easier to train—like a troll. It took them a while to catch on, and Remus was the first to realize what their trainer was doing, but eventually they all knew what was going on.

"So, O Esteemed One, how badly did we do today?" Sirius asked dryly with a small mocking bow. Hermione snorted at them. She turned to James Potter.

"How do _you_ think you did?" she asked James curiously. He blushed.

"I hesitated," he admitted. Hermione nodded. "When Moony sent that stinging hex at me, I put up my shield, and you told us to use the um…the jinxes with more punch? Well…I hesitated."

"Why is that, Potter?" Hermione asked him with wide, innocent eyes that didn't fool any of them.

"Well, Longbottom," he said with a slight frown, "I've never been in favor of the Dark Arts, none of my House is, and those jinxes aren't exactly of the Light."

"Why?" Hermione asked him gently, her head cocked to one side.

"Well, they're not very nice, are they?" Potter snapped in frustration. "They're none of them what we're taught in school."

"No, they're not," Hermione agreed. "Now, why do you think those sorts of jinxes are not taught at Hogwarts?"

"Most likely because our DADA courses never have the same professor, and we're all taught in a sloppy haphazard fashion. There is no single curriculum that's followed completely through, so it ends up being a wretched mish-mash of this and that. It's a miracle we don't all jinx ourselves in the foot," Fabian observed casually from the doorway.

"No, there was some idiot who did jinx himself in the foot in our fifth year," Gideon reminded his brother. Fabian nodded.

"Oh, right. Well, he was a Slytherin so he probably deserved it," Fabian pointed out.

"True," Gideon agreed. "Most likely a Death Eater, so he did us all a favor anyway."

"What are you two doing here?" Hermione demanded irritably. They both smiled winningly at her and each kissed her on the cheek.

"Mum informed us that House Longbottom has decided that it might be willing to consider our suit, if we were to press it," Fabian said with a wicked look in his blue eyes. Hermione snorted.

"It still sounds like you think I'm a house elf," she sighed.

"If we were to offer for your hand, you might not hex us," Gideon translated.

"Maybe," she agreed.

"So does that mean we're forgiven?" Fabian asked hopefully.

"Wait a minute, this is _our_ training session, so can we hold off on the protestation of undying love for the next bit?" Remus asked plaintively. Fabian and Gideon snorted and flopped onto the floor near their witch.

"So were they right?" Sirius asked curiously. Hermione blinked at him.

"About what?" she asked.

"The reason we're not taught offensive spells like the ones you've been teaching us?" Remus reminded her. Hermione shrugged.

"It's a very good reason," she admitted, considering her answer carefully, "but is it the only reason? That's something to think about. Why is there no set curriculum? Who would benefit from ill-informed, ill-prepared Hogwarts graduates? What could be gained from a populace that cannot defend itself adequately? How would that populace react to the threat of attack by unfriendly forces? I want you to think about those questions by yourselves. Talk to each other, argue with each other. I want you to role play: come up with an argument that makes sense to you and try to prove it. You others will see if you can poke holes in the argument. If you can't figure out why an argument would be false—no matter its improbability—I want you to consider that it _might_ be true. Think about what that would mean, the truth of your argument, to Hogwarts students, graduates, and to our society as a whole. Ask Lily her opinion, Potter. We'll talk about it next time."

All five young men stared at Hermione while she spoke, growing paler and paler as what she was saying sank into their brains. Remus frowned and seemed to start to ask her a question and then stop himself. Finally, he gave in to his own curiosity.

"The scenario that you're describing implies that someone orchestrated all of this to happen, to purposefully weaken our society," Remus began uncertainly. Hermione frowned back at him.

"Does it?" she asked him carefully. "Could the scenario I have implied by my questions _only_ have occurred because someone else specifically designed it to happen just so? Or is it possible that certain events took place, and persons took personal advantage of those events, not realizing what would eventually happen because of those choices? Now, to go back to Potter's earlier concerns—what makes a spell dark or light?"

"Well, dark spells are _dark_," James said flatly, a scowl on his face. Fabian and Gideon rolled their eyes at one another. It wasn't that the kiddos were obtuse, but they did tend to not use their brains as much as one might hope.

"I see," Hermione said coolly. She turned to Sirius. "Your family is considered dark. Is it because they are? Are _you_ dark merely because you're a Black?"

"I…," Sirius paused, and Hermione knew that Sirius did in fact worry about that from time to time.

"Don't be ridiculous," James snapped. "Course he's not dark! He's a Gryffindor!"

"Peter was a Gryffindor," Hermione said coldly, and all three men flinched as though they'd been slapped.

"Well," James tried again and faltered, confusion on his face. Hermione sighed heavily, and her three trainees had the strong suspicion that she was about to compare them to trolls again.

"A spell, a potion, a charm—each is a thing in and of itself. It is not sentient, it does not make choice for itself any more than this couch does or that rug does. Objects, in general, do not have an alignment with dark or light. Certain, specific items do. Sometimes we can an item dark because of how it was made, or we might describe an item as dark because of what it was designed to do. Sirius, your mother's pearls are a dark item. Why?" Hermione explained as carefully as she could. The analogy of a knife in a murderer's hands versus a scalpel in a doctor's would not work on these men, and just might completely turn them off muggles, which she hoped to avoid. Lily would understand that analogy, and she would use it when explaining the concept to her later.

"They were made with the intent to kill anyone who was not a Black," Sirius muttered darkly, a scowl on his face. Hermione nodded.

"Very good," she said encouragingly. Remus sat up sharply.

"Intent? That's what you're talking about? What someone intends to do with the spell?" Remus asked excitedly. Hermione nodded again and allowed him a small smile.

"Exactly. There are some spells which the Death Eaters use with the intent to maim, kill and hurt. Healers might use the same spells, or similar spells to heal and repair. Are healers dark? No, because their intent is to heal and to save lives," Hermione said firmly.

"What sorts of spells?" James asked suspiciously. Fabian and Gideon waved their hands enthusiastically as though they were in class. Hermione rolled her eyes at them and waved a hand irritably.

"_Cor Sisto_," Fabian said promptly. "It stops the heart instantly. Sometimes a healer has to stop a patient's heart and then restart it manually. It's a two part spell. Death Eaters often just use the first half."

"So people who've had that curse used aren't really dead?" Remus asked with a great deal of interest. Hermione shook her head.

"If they're left too long without the counter curse they're just as dead as someone who has been AK'ed," she explained gently. "However, do you see the difference? The healers are only trying to help heal and save people. The Death Eaters are most certainly doing nothing of the kind."

"So…just because someone claims that a spell is 'dark' doesn't necessarily mean that it is? It might not be if you're trying to help or save people?" James asked uncertainly. Hermione watched him for several minutes.

"Go home," she said at last. "Go and talk to Lily and talk to your two reprobate friends here. The most important thing I want all of you to do is think for yourselves. No matter what theory you can come up with, if you can defend it to me, and support your arguments with logic and reputable sources, I'll be pleased with you."

"Right," James said hesitantly, an uncertain look on his face. Remus looked excited and Sirius looked intrigued.

"We'll see you in a couple days," Sirius said solemnly. Hermione put out a hand and touched his arm lightly.

"Will you stay for just a moment?" She asked carefully. He nodded. James and Remus left them, but only after Sirius nodded to the both of them. "You do realize that I used you as an example to get Potter to use his brain?"

"Yeah," he said slowly.

"Sirius, you have been one of the most important people in my life. You didn't even know me, but you trusted me because I was Harry's friend. You didn't care that I was a muggleborn witch. You only cared that I wanted to help and protect Harry. Until then, no one had ever treated me like that except Harry," Hermione told him honestly.

"You make me sound like a bloody saint," he muttered, his cheeks flushing. Hermione giggled for a couple minutes, her eyes dancing mischievously.

"You were definitely not a saint," she snickered. Then she sobered and looked deeply into his solemn face. "But you were the opposite of what a dark wizard is. I always measured every wizard up to you and Remus, Sirius, I want you to know that. Most of them fell far below the bar you've set. Harry of course did not, but that's because you influenced him."

"I…," Sirius looked a little overwhelmed. Then Hermione hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. He'd turned toward her in surprise when she hugged him and ended up kissing her on the lips. There was an angry in stereo growl and suddenly his arms were empty and he was facing a solid wall of pissed off Prewett twins.

"Hey!" Hermione said angrily, tugging hard on both men's robes. They glared at her over their shoulders. "It was an accident. He wasn't trying to snog me, or anything."

"He kissed you!" Gideon snarled, turning back to fix an angry stare on Sirius. Hermione sighed loudly.

"Sirius, go home. Fabian, Gideon, sit down!" Hermione snapped in irritation. Sirius knew that tone, and it never boded well. He fled the room gratefully, never once looking back.

"Hermione," Fabian began, but Hermione cut him off abruptly.

"I said _sit_!" She barked and both men sat and exchanged a look.

"Now," she continued in a softer voice, looking at both men. "I understand that you're both uncertain about us, the three of us I mean, and I know that that can lead to insecurities, but I absolutely forbid either of you to harm Sirius or Remus. I suppose James Potter, too."

"He kissed you!" Fabian said with some heat, echoing his brother. Hermione sighed heavily.

"I was there, I remember," she said sarcastically.

"You're our witch!" Gideon said indignantly. Hermione snorted.

"Buy me, did you? Have your receipt handy?" Hermione snapped. Both men blushed.

"No, but…how would you feel if some strange witch wandered over and started pawing at Gid or me?" Fabian demanded. Hermione paused slightly to imagine that and her lips tightened in anger. "See? You wouldn't like it, either. We're soul mates and we've got a bond started. It's not completed yet, and that's part of the problem."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked with a slight frown.

"Your magic is going to be protective of the bond, and you'll be more prone to jealousy and irrational emotions until it's complete," Gideon said bluntly.

"I see," she said carefully.

"You're willing to accept the bond though, right? I mean, that's why House Longbottom has indicated they're open to an offer from House Prewett, right?" Fabian pushed gently. Hermione bit her lip and looked at the both of them. Then she nodded slowly.

"Yes," she said finally. Gideon pulled her down onto his lap. His callused fingertips stroked her collarbone and then fingered her medallion.

"You were already ours, you know, because of this?" Gideon asked her gently. She tugged his hair.

"And you were mine," she tossed back at him.

"Of course," they both agreed and Hermione flushed slightly.

"Why is it so simple for you," Hermione asked them.

"Why isn't it for you? You said that you were friends with Fred and George, that they explained it all to you," Gideon demanded in frustration. Hermione sighed.

"Well, yeah, but they hadn't found anyone who knew and understood both of them the way that they needed. I helped them get over at least six different witches who couldn't deal with the both of them," Hermione said sadly.

"But you _can_ deal with the both of us," Fabian reminded her gently. "That's not even the problem for you. It's the soul mate part that bothers you."

"Not so much anymore," she admitted with a slight blush. "That's why I had Augusta contact your parents. Ooh! Watch it!"

Fabian and Gideon and crushed her between them, and both were trying to kiss as much of her as they could. Hermione responded enthusiastically and found herself snogging Gideon who was kissing her with a desperate passion, his tongue stroking hers and his fingers wound in her hair. He reluctantly let her go, only to have Fabian capture her lips for kisses that made her wonder if her lips would have scorch marks. A hand slid under her shirt to tease the skin at her waist and she sat up abruptly, her eyes wide.

"What? Did we do something wrong? Something you didn't like?" Gideon asked worriedly, his hands skimming her shoulders and stroking down her arms. She bit her lip and shook her head.

"No, it's just…not here, okay? Let's…um…let's go to the Prewett estate or something," Hermione said softly, her cheeks a brilliant pink. Fabian and Gideon sat up and stared at her.

"Are you sure about this?" Fabian asked her carefully.

"Yes," Hermione said with quiet dignity. "I'm sure."


	10. The Unexpected and the Unexplainable

_A/N: As many of you have guessed (judging by your comments) there are lemon-y type things happening here. If that bothers you—you probably should skip this whole chapter. Pretend that they spent the whole chapter, er, playing cards. I'm sure it was Go Fish, or Old Maid or something like that. This chapter took a bit. I'm not sure why, I just seemed to have horrible writer's block._

**FP/HL/GP**

The Prewett estate looked dark and imposing, but a couple flicks of the wrist and it seemed cozier. Hermione paced anxiously around the entry hall and Fabian and Gideon leaned back against the wall, crossed their arms and watched her silently. Their witch was nervous or upset about something. They weren't quite sure what, but something so they waited patiently. She stopped and looked at them, took a deep breath and started talking.

"I'm not a virgin," she said flatly, twisting her hands together. Fabian snorted.

"Neither are we. Or at least I'm not. How about you, Gid?" Fabian asked cheekily. Gideon glared at him, and then turned to Hermione.

"I'm not either," he said quietly with a shrug, "and I didn't expect you to be, either."

"Okay, so…I've got scars," she said anxiously, looking at the both of them. "Er, physical ones, I mean. From fighting…and whatnot."

"So you've got scars? We do, too, love. We've been fighting for years now," Fabian said while he slid his robes off and took off his shirt. Hermione just stared at him, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "Now this one here? This one Gideon gave me by accident when we were kids. This one Molly gave me when she didn't enunciate properly with a hex. She felt horrible and her nursing me back to health was worse than the original wound. This one I got from Selwyn, the bastard. You'll be happy to know I gave him as good as I got. This one I got from your generic Death Eater. These all came from a pretty heated battle and I'm not sure who gave me what. This one was from Bellatrix LeStrange. Vicious little harpy, she is. She isn't, by any chance, dead is she? That would make my whole week."

"You—you," Hermione managed to get out, but she still seemed stunned. Gideon smirked at him and then slid off his robes and undid his shirt. Hermione's eyes widened slightly and that was the only change. She appeared to be slightly stunned.

"I got this one as payback from Fabian," Gideon told her smoothly, pointing out a jagged scar on his left shoulder. "This one I got from a girl who thought I was Fabian. He'd just broken up with her, you see. These three were from Avery, and I got him good. This one was from Selwyn, and I think he thought I was Fabian. For some reason, he doesn't like you, brother. This is my present from Mrs. Lestrange, and I can't help but agree with Fabian about her. These other little scars were from that same heated battle. Oh! This was actually from Moody because I wasn't paying attention."

"Do you think we're horribly ugly and repulsive?" Fabian asked her softly. Hermione shook her head, still staring at them.

"Hermione, love, say something?" Gideon begged her quietly. Hermione blinked and turned slightly to Gideon.

"You," she said softly and shook her head.

"I think we broke her," Fabian muttered under his breath. Gideon grinned and then turned to Hermione.

"Is it because we don't care that you've been through a scrape or two?" Gideon asked gently. Hermione swallowed nervously and then pulled off her top and shimmied out of her jeans. She stood before them in knickers and bra that were a deep, deep blue. The twins moved closer. Fabian sucked in air between his teeth and gingerly touched and old scar that spread across her ribcage just under her bra.

"Who?" He demanded harshly.

"Dolohov, fifth year," she murmured softly. The twins exchanged a glance and then turned to her.

"He did this to you when you were fifteen?" Gideon demanded harshly. Hermione blinked and glanced up at him. She smiled weakly.

"Well, we broke into the Ministry of Magic to stop Voldemort and—"

"I don't even want to know," Fabian said, interrupting her. Then he paused and looked at her appraisingly. "Wait, you broke into the Ministry?"

"Yeah, Harry thought they'd taken Sirius, and we were going to rescue him…or something," Hermione muttered, frowning slightly.

"I think we're probably better off not knowing," Gideon murmured to his brother and Fabian nodded.

"Right," Fabian agreed. Hermione was right, she did have scars, but Fabian and Gideon could have cared less. She was beautiful. His hand moved to rest on spot where her hip began to flare out. He looked into those amber eyes and saw the vulnerability and fear there. He sighed and raised his hand, brushing her hair back from her face. "You are beautiful, Hermione. Yes, you've got scars, but they don't mar your beauty."

"You think I'm beautiful?" She said uncertainly, looking down at herself. Gideon tipped her chin up and glared at her.

"I _know_ you're beautiful," he growled at her. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him.

"I suppose I could argue with you, but it would sound like I was fishing for compliments," she said at last. Gideon chuckled and slid behind her, admiring her tattoo for just a moment before he pressed his chest against her back. She shivered against him and he bent his head to kiss a small scar on her shoulder. Fabian had grabbed her arm and was staring at it.

"Who did this," he growled low in his throat. Gideon raised his head and looked at what his brother was pointing at. He became utterly still, staring at the word _carved_ into their witch's arm. Hermione sighed and leaned against Gideon, who automatically wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," she murmured. She tilted her head back and Fabian could see a thin scar that went across most of her neck. "This, too, actually."

"Please tell me she's dead," Gideon growled in her ear. Hermione smirked at Fabian who frowned slightly.

"Why are you smirking like that?" Fabian asked cautiously.

"Oh, she's dead. In my time or world or…whatever, Molly kills her," Hermione said smugly.

"_Molly_?!" Both twins goggled at her. Hermione nodded.

"Rule number #1: Don't _ever_ mess with Molly's family," Hermione said firmly. Fabian and Gideon looked at one another and grinned.

"That sounds like our Moll," Gideon agreed at last, his breath against Hermione's ear. She shuddered against him.

"So we're all a little bit scarred, but we're not frightened off by our mutual scarring, right?" Fabian asked Hermione carefully. She bit her lip, and both men could see her thinking about it.

"I guess not?" She offered weakly. The twins gave her a look that was absolutely predatory and she shivered, but not in fear. They stalked toward her and pulled her into their arms.

Prewett kisses were distracting Hermione from everything except the feel of their lips on her skin. Fabian was placing delicate kisses over the scars on her inner forearm, as though he could with the force of his caring make the ugly word disappear from her skin. That tender act touched her deeply, and it was matched by Gideon's light kisses which seemed to be lightly touching most of the scars on her shoulders. In that moment, in that space, Hermione felt something very similar to the way she felt when the Longbottoms made her family, yet very different. It wasn't the sense of 'home', exactly. It was a sense of belonging. She didn't feel as though she belonged _to_ Fabian and/or Gideon, or not quite anyway. It felt more as though she belonged _with_ Fabian and Gideon. She was meant to be here, with them. She gave herself up to the sensations they were inspiring within her. Dark red, silky hair slid through her fingers, and dark blue eyes looked at her hungrily. Gideon and Fabian exchanged a look, and began to drag her toward the hall.

Hermione stumbled slightly, but followed Fabian and Gideon down the hall and up the stairs. They stumbled into a room that she assumed was the master suite. Fabian put a hand behind her back and was sliding her bra off. Her knickers followed quickly and the twins took one step back to admire the view for just a moment. The heat in both sets of eyes conveyed everything. Fabian and Gideon were used to being so closely linked to someone that speech was often unnecessary. Therefore, neither man needed to say a word; she could see in their eyes how beautiful they thought she was, how much they wanted her, and how much they…_loved_ her. Her breath caught in her throat and she blinked rapidly, a blush rising in her cheeks. She flicked her own wand and they were soon as naked as she was. There were a couple more scars she noted, including a large scar on Gideon's powerful, well-muscled thigh. They were right. The scars didn't matter at all because she'd never seen men more beautiful than the two men here with her now. She pulled them both to her by their hands and gloried in the feel of their skin against hers.

"Now how does this work, exactly?" Hermione asked hesitantly. Fabian smirked at her. She glared at him and swatted him on the arm. "I mean, with two of you."

"Just let Gideon and I handle that bit," Fabian purred in her ears. She bit her lip and then nodded.

Fingers and hands slid down her back, cupped her bum and pulled her up against the hard, toned body of Gideon who was watching her reactions quietly. She slid her hands over his chest, lightly tracing the lines of his muscle and moving up and around his neck. He leaned down and kissed her because she was too short to lean up and kiss him. Gideon cupped her face in his large hand, his callused thumb brushing over her cheekbone. Fabian's hands slid up her ribcage to cup her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers tweaking her nipples and making her squirm between them. Fabian and Gideon led her gently toward the bed, and helped her into the middle so that they could lay on either side of her. Hermione trusted Gideon and Fabian with all of her heart and soul so she did just as Fabian had asked and let the two of them figure out how everything was supposed to work. It may have just been her, but she seemed to feel everything more intensely, more strongly, every touch building incredible sensations within her. Then again, she'd never actually been with two men before at the same time, so perhaps that was a part of it. Both men had made it work. Not quite how Hermione had expected, but to be honest she hadn't had any expectations. She just knew that it felt incredible, and she would like both of them to never, ever stop moving inside of her please and thank you. There was the delicious sensation of being absolutely filled and yet utterly complete. Her orgasm, went it came, was the most intense she'd ever experienced. She stared up at Fabian with a dazed expression, but he appeared somewhat stunned as well. She peeked over her shoulder at Gideon who looked completely floored.

"So that wasn't normal for you two either?" Hermione asked hesitantly. The twins shook their head at her mutely and then looked at one another and grinned wickedly.

"Could have been a fluke," Gideon suggested against her ear before he nibbled lightly on it. Fabian smirked at her, his dark blue eyes smoldering at her.

"Somehow I don't think that's so," Hermione said softly, staring at Fabian who kissed her on the nose.

"We don't think so either, love," Gideon murmured against her neck, "it's just too much fun to tease you."

"I see," Hermione said with a raised eyebrow. Fabian kissed her again.

"Don't be cranky, Hermione," Fabian said softly. "We like to laugh just as much in bed as out of it."

"I suppose I'll have to get used to that," Hermione said with a slight smile. Gideon growled against her shoulder.

"Damn straight you'll be getting used to it," he huffed. "You're stuck with us."

Later that night, Hermione awoke suddenly between her two lovers. Her skin was crawling, and she rubbed at her arms in an attempt to alleviate her discomfort. What had woken her? She grabbed her wand off the nightstand and did several security spells in quick succession. Nothing. There was no determinable threat to her, or Fabian and Gideon's, safety. The wards seemed fine, although only the twins could actually interact with them. She chewed her lip, trying to solve the puzzle when the twins turned almost as one and their hands reached out, searching for her. She smiled slightly, and put her wand back on the nightstand. Fabian and Gideon both murmured in their sleep and their arms tightened around her, pulling her to them. She allowed herself to be cuddled and closed her eyes reluctantly. Sleep was difficult, but she finally surrendered to it.

.

.

**FP/HL/GP**

.

.

The Marauders had been jittery and impatient, and Hermione couldn't really blame them. James was about to become a father, and his best friends would become honorary uncles in a just a few months. They were all prone to be a little touchy, and they were all wound a little tight. During all of this, their trainer had been calm, cool and collected. She'd kept them on track and focused. As a favor to Moody, James and Sirius were taking her and Remus over to the Ministry to do a demonstration for the rest of his Aurors. Hermione had her 'Jean MacDougall' face on, which had been a little disconcerting to the Marauders because they were used to Hermione's regular face, but they took it all in stride.

"Terrible tragedy," one of the other Aurors was saying to a friend as they entered the department. "Still can't figure out why they were targeted. Poor muggle family with a brand-new baby girl completely wiped out. The husband and wife were tooth healers or some such."

The man was pressed up against a wall faster than he could credit it, a furious witch twisting the robes at his throat to cut off circulation.

"The family, who were they? The name, man!" Hermione demanded shrilly, her heart pounding in her ears. _It couldn't be!_

"Er…Graham? No…Grantham? Oh, Granger!" The Auror managed to choke out. Hermione released him instantly, her face deathly pale.

"No," she whispered, her eyes wide and staring. She looked down at herself and started patting her own cheeks and pinching her arms. Everyone stared at her and then looked at the three young wizards who had escorted her.

"Her-er-Jean?" Remus asked softly, touching her elbow lightly. She started and turned to stare at them.

"I have to know," she whispered. Sirius and James went to talk to Moody who found the pertinent file and gave them an address. The three wizards escorted her out of the Ministry and took her in a side-along apparition because they didn't trust her current mental state.

The former Granger house was a smoking ruin. It was her house, the house to which her parents had brought her home from the hospital. The house she'd grown up in. That 'brand-new baby girl'…was her. She had woken up last night with some vague sense of unease. Why hadn't she disappeared? Why was she still here? Why had Death Eaters gone after her family this time if they hadn't before? What the hell was going on? Hermione stood staring at her home, her face a pale mask of grief. It didn't make any sense. It didn't. Why would someone have targeted her family? Voldemort wouldn't have cared.

"Hermione?" Sirius asked cautiously, coming to stand next to her.

"Remus, why am I still here?" Hermione asked in confusion, turning to the werewolf. "Shouldn't I have disappeared? That's how it's supposed to work…isn't it?"

"Well, actual time travel is, of course, mostly rumor and legend. There aren't many actual documented cases. I can't think of any off the top of my head. There's plenty of theory, sure. Time travel is one of those things that any idiot can theorize about because there is no way to experiment and disprove any of the currently touted theories," Remus explained carefully. Sirius snorted.

"I think that means he has no idea," James said dryly. Remus shot him a very rude gesture that earned him a smack on the arm from Hermione.

"Who would have wanted to destroy a family of muggle tooth healers?" Sirius wondered aloud.

"Voldemort's never had a root canal, has he?" Hermione asked curiously. The three young men looked at one another and shrugged.

"What's a root canal?" James asked curiously. Hermione smirked.

"I'll have to see if I can't make you an appointment," she murmured to herself. Then her face fell as she looked at her home again. "I just don't understand."

"Maybe we should take you home to Fabian and Gideon," Sirius said uncertainly.

"Or Mrs. Longbottom," James said softly.

"I want Mrs. Longbottom," Hermione whispered, her face deathly pale. "I want Augusta."

Augusta Longbottom was shocked when her adopted daughter was brought home by the three young men she trained looking as though her world had just ended. When young James Potter pulled her quietly aside and explained why Hermione looked so upset, she sat down abruptly not trusting her legs to hold her. She grabbed Hermione's hand and held it tightly. The girl felt solid enough, and she didn't look as though she were fading. This young woman, her daughter now, had come so far and risked so much for all of them. True, it had not been her intent to do so, but once she was here she had helped them all immeasurably. The question that Augusta kept returning to was why? Why had Death Eaters targeted her daughter's birth family? They enjoyed torturing muggles for sport, she knew that as well as anyone, but they certainly didn't put themselves out for it, or strain themselves in anyway. The Granger home wasn't easily accessible to magicals, which meant that someone had to put forth an effort. Someone had even taken the trouble to put up the Dark Mark above the home, as a warning. This disturbed Augusta greatly, and she wanted to talk to some of her contacts among the wizarding community. She sent for Fabian and Gideon, and turned to the three young men who were watching their normally calm and in control trainer lose a little bit of her hard won cool.

"What has happened we cannot control," Augusta said carefully. "I ask all three of you to please say nothing unless you are directly questioned. If you are, please say only that Hermione appeared agitated and said that she was returning to our estate here."

"You believe someone killed her and her family on purpose?" Remus asked cautiously, his eyes wide. Augusta nodded.

"I do," she said firmly. "I believe that whoever did this knew exactly who she was and that factored into their choice to target the Granger family."

"But," Remus said slowly, a look of horror on his face, "the only people who knew who Hermione was were the members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"That is my concern as well," Augusta replied harshly, her eyes cold. "House Longbottom will be reviewing its alliances carefully. James, would you ask your parents if I might speak with them? Sirius, I would like to speak to your Uncle Alphard, if he's currently in Britain."

"Uncle Alphard is in Britain right now," Sirius confirmed. "I'll contact him right away, Mrs. Longbottom."

"We won't let anything happen to her, Mrs. Longbottom," Remus said softly, staring at the young woman who had become a friend to all of them. Augusta snorted softly.

"That may be so, young Lupin, but you'll have to stand behind the Prewett boys. They'll claim pride of place as her betrotheds," Mrs. Longbottom said firmly. Hermione made a slight, strangled noise, but all of them ignored that as her normal reaction to anything resembling engagements and marriage.

"We can go right away, if you want," James offered quietly, his young face grave. Mrs. Longbottom nodded.

"Please, this whole situation is unacceptable, and I wish to consolidate our position as soon as possible. House Longbottom needs to know who it can count on, and who it can't," Augusta muttered darkly. Hermione still looked shocked and numb.

"Hermione! Mrs. Longbottom!" Fabian and Gideon were hurrying toward them. They sat down on either side of Hermione and cuddled her. Both men looked up at House Longbottom's Matriarch. "What's happened?"

"The Granger family's been murdered, and their home has been destroyed. They lived away from most magicals that it would have required an effort to get to them. We believe they were murdered on purpose. That whoever targeted them did so because they knew exactly who the infant Hermione Granger would grow up to become," Augusta informed the two men harshly, her mouth tightened in displeasure.

"But…the only people who knew-," Fabian began, shock and horror in his face.

"We know, we figured out that bit," Sirius told the twins. They looked at their witch and then turned to her adoptive mother.

"House Prewett stands with House Longbottom," Fabian said firmly. "I'll floo call Dad with your permission, and he can come swear alliance for the whole family. We can also floo call our brother-in-law, Arthur Weasley."

"House Longbottom thanks you," Augusta Longbottom said firmly. "I'll send an owl to Frank, he'll need to be present for the oaths of alliance."

"Of course," Gideon said with a nod. Hermione seemed to shake off her stupor and stared at all of them.

"Do I even want to know?" She asked Gideon with a slight frown.

"Someone tried to murder you," Fabian said flatly, his eyes hard. "You, and by extension your House, have been threatened. Your mother is rallying her House to fight."

"I see," Hermione said, her eyes wide. She turned to Augusta. "Thank you."

"No thanks are necessary," Augusta said stiffly. "You are my daughter."

"Of course," Hermione said faintly. "Is there a book or something that explains all of this?"

"Not really," Remus said apologetically. Fabian frowned thoughtfully.

"You might be able to find one at Prewett's Folly," he told her carefully, trying to communicate with his eyes.

"Oh! Oh, you're right," she murmured.

"However, you're not leaving here until House Longbottom has confirmed all of its alliances and set up a War Council," Augusta Longbottom said firmly. Hermione sighed heavily.

"Is that really necessary?" She demanded.

"Yes," replied everyone else firmly. She pouted, but in the end gave up gracefully.

"Very well," she muttered darkly, "but I'm not going to be happy about it."

"None of us are very happy about the current situation at all," Mrs. Longbottom said with a frown. The men all nodded their agreement. Someone was trying to destroy Hermione Longbottom. Unfortunately, they'd stirred a hornet's nest in the process.


	11. Asking Questions

_A/N: AAAaaaugh! I had the worst writer's block on this chapter. I do not know why. It was driving me crazy. _

The next few days were a whirlwind for Hermione and her head spun wildly at regular intervals. A number of people showed up, none of whom she knew because they'd all died or been killed by her time. Older, distinguished wizards who exuded power became frequent guests in her adopted family's home, and Hermione began to surreptitiously watch them, a small frown on her face. The Marauders and the Prewett twins recognized that face and left her alone to think. The only wizard that Hermione had ever met that had presence and style, and was not insane or evil or both, was Dumbledore. Admittedly, she had concerns about Dumbledore, but she didn't think he was evil or insane. Well…sanity was a relative state of mind, and there was that whole argument about reality and existence influencing one another, but really she felt that Dumbledore was mostly harmless. She wondered about that. Why were there so few older wizards during her original time? Wizards and Witches could live to two hundred. Most of them, of course, did not, but one-hundred and fifty was quite common. Griselda Marchbanks had been born in 1863 and was still a vital witch overseeing OWLs when Hermione had taken hers in 1996. Had it been the war? Or had there been a systematic removal of older, powerful, wizards? If Hermione were Voldemort, would she have tried to remove those with the skill, experience and power to overtake her? She paced restlessly in the library thinking. How had these wizards died? Hermione racked her brain, trying to remember snippets of conversation with Harry and the older Marauders. How had the Potters died? How had Sirius' Uncle Alphard died? Alphard, as the oldest male, should have been the head of that branch of the Black family, and as such Walburga's petulant blasting of him from the family tree should have had no impact on his status as a Head of House.

"What is it that's troubling you, young lady?" A deep, resonant voice asked curiously. Hermione spun in surprise, her eyes wide. Mr. Potter was leaning idly against a column in the library in a posture that was reminiscent of his son. Hermione bit her lip and stared at him. Sirius and Remus wandered into the library and looked from Hermione to Mr. Potter and back.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked with a frown.

"What happened to you?" She said softly, her brow furrowing. Mr. Potter blinked in surprise and looked to his son's friends for assistance. Remus' eyebrows rose and he looked at Sirius.

"Her friend lived with you," Remus muttered quietly at Sirius. "Think about that for a moment."

"Wait, what happened to Lily's parents?" Sirius asked after a moment. Hermione turned to him and the consternation on her face was priceless. She ran from the room and raced toward the parlor where James was speaking to his mother. She clutched his arm, staring at him with wild eyes.

"The Evans house," she whispered urgently. "Did you ward their house?"

"I—I don't know…Lily never mentioned it," he said with a slight frown. Hermione blinked at him in surprise and then shook his arm.

"She comes from a non-magical home," Hermione hissed at him in irritation, "she probably doesn't even understand what wards are, what they do."

James Potter's face paled dramatically, and he hurried from the room with Hermione close behind. He headed straight to Augusta Longbottom's floo. He was on his knees speaking urgently to his wife. Lily answered his questions hesitantly, confusion on her face, but it was patently obvious that the young witch had no idea what he was talking about. Hermione nudged him gently and he moved over so that Hermione could speak to her.

"Lily, I'm sorry to interrupt James, but I thought it might help if I explained one or two things," Hermione apologized. Lily nodded uncertainly, her eyes flicking to where she'd seen her husband go. "Now, in the muggle world, when you want to keep people out you build high fences, you purchase guard dogs, and you install security guards or security cameras."

"Well, most people can't afford all of that," Lily said thoughtfully, "but yes, you are correct."

"In the magical world, we can counter all of that with magic," Hermione explained, and Lily nodded understanding. "So in the magical world, to keep out others they put up wards. These wards act as our walls, our guard dogs and our security guards."

"My parents have nothing like that," Lily said innocently, "but why would they?"

"Lily, my dear, as you and your husband have publicly defied Voldemort—don't you think that he would take retribution out on your family? It's a fairly common practice," Hermione explained gently. Lily frowned and shook her head.

"He doesn't know where I live," Lily said confidently. Hermione's face paled dramatically at that as she thought about something that Harry had told her after the war.

"What is it?" James asked urgently. "What do you know?"

"Snape," she whispered, staring ahead, seeing far more than she wanted to. Snape wouldn't have cared about Lily's parents. He certainly hadn't cared for her husband or son, why would her parents be any different?

"Snivellus?" James asked in surprise. "How do you know about him?"

"He knows where your parents live, right?" Hermione asked Lily flatly. She nodded, fear pinching her features.

"Yes, he knows, but," Lily whispered. Hermione shook her head.

"He's a Death Eater, Lily," Hermione said flatly. Lily shook her head, but Hermione's face was firm.

"James?" Lily's voice had become thin and reedy and her eyes were wide with fear.

"Right now, love," he responded. "I'm going to grab Sirius and Remus and then we're coming through."

"I'll come, too," Hermione said suddenly and James snorted.

"Right, if you want your mother, your brother, your sister-in-law and your future betrotheds to chew me up and spit me out," he said dryly. Hermione sighed in irritation.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll stay here."

In their spare time, Augusta and Frank had tried to explain the complex series of familial alliances between the Longbottom family and certain other Houses that were considered Ancient, Noble, or both. Hermione's head had started to hurt very quickly in because the shared histories of all the Houses was so intertwined that she got easily confused. Finally, Hermione converted one wall of her bedroom to a magical mural. She listed each House with Important Events carefully listed below each house. She made little symbols for whether the House was Ancient, Noble or both, and developed a color coding system to show alliances, oaths of allegiance and favors owed. There was a second page that she could call up at will that showed family trees and that too was color-coded for familial ties. If one of the murals tied to the other, the event, house, or family in question would glow slightly, she would tap it, and it would show the other ties involved. This system helped her immensely and she got far fewer headaches that way. She developed a parchment that was linked to her mural that could pull up pertinent information when her brother and mother were speaking to her about the current situation.

Now she wandered to the library and amused herself by thinking of all the obscure families she could name and trying to see if any of them were linked to current families. Hermione listed all of the families that she'd heard of in passing, and some that were extinct all together. She was not angry at the Marauders, not really. She understood that there had been a direct attack on her existence, although she still wasn't sure why she was still here. She also understood that older, more experienced wizards and witches that she greatly respected, including her adopted mother, were very worried about her safety. She understood it, she just didn't like it.

.

.

**FP/HG/GP**

.

.

"Poppet?" Frank Longbottom called quietly. Hermione glanced up from the book she was reading and smiled at her adopted brother.

"Yes, Frank?" Hermione asked patiently. He smirked at her.

"Mother's looking for you," he told her. Hermione sighed and stood. Augusta Longbottom was sitting in her study, frowning at papers on her desk. Her face relaxed as soon as she saw Hermione, and she smiled waving both of them into the room.

"I believe that we have gone through and reevaluated every single alliance and relationship that House Longbottom has with the entire wizarding world—well, at least here in the United Kingdom. I think some Longbottoms have emigrated to Canada, Australia and the States so it is possible that there are some individual oaths there," Augusta informed her children. Frank nodded as though this was old information to him. Hermione frowned slightly and then she beamed at her mother.

"This means I can go outside the wards now, right?" Hermione asked cautiously. Augusta smiled back at her and nodded.

"Yes, dear it does. Just…be safe?" Augusta cautioned. Hermione leapt to her feet and ran to hug Augusta. She followed that by hugging Frank so tightly he thought he heard his back pop.

"So, it's all right for me to go to Prewett's Folly then, right?" Hermione asked eagerly. Frank chuckled and looked at his mother.

"I told you mother," Frank said smugly. Augusta rolled her eyes at her son and turned to Hermione.

"The boys or that strange study you mentioned?" Augusta asked. Hermione blushed.

"Both," she said at last.

"Good luck, my dear," Augusta said at last. "I hope that you are able to find a book that explains why you're here. I, for one, am glad that you are, but I don't want you disappearing on me suddenly."

"I don't want that either," Hermione said feelingly.

Ginevra Prewett was pleased to see her, and Hermione visited with her for a bit, but then she was off in the bowels of Prewett's Folly, looking for the strange study. She was standing in the hallway, and she turned slightly when she saw a door that looked somewhat familiar. She moved forward eagerly and turned the handle, walking quickly through the door and into the study. The little bookcase was still crammed, and Hermione began to look for titles on time travel. She couldn't find anything. She sighed heavily and began at the top of the bookcase, muttering under her breath. She shifted and a book fell off of one of the shelves. She picked it up and glanced at the title: _Soul Mates—Bonding and Side Effects Thereof_. She snorted to herself and put it back on the shelf. She continued to look over the bookshelf muttering darkly.

"Time travel…time travel…I know there just has to be something here somewhere," she growled under her breath. The book fell off the shelf again and she frowned. She hadn't even been touching it. She picked it up again and set it carefully on the shelf, wedging it between a couple of other books. The book fell on the ground in front of her again, only this time it fell open to a particular page. She sighed heavily and picked up the book _again_. Her eyes fell on a particular passage:

"_The bond of true soul mates is unlike any other, and it has been suggested that there might be certain benefits to this bond. Helga Bagshot has argued that nothing can sunder a soul mate bond, and has pointed to several well-known bonded couples and groups whose individual members survived particularly dark curses. Bagshot's argument is that the bond protects itself, and because the death of one of the members would cause the death of the bond and all of its individual members, the bond prevents this. Marius Blishwick's counter argument is compelling and worth quoting in part: 'To say that a soul mate bond is this active, to suggest that it is almost sentient in its desire to protect the bond, is ridiculous. If one were to believe Bagshot's suggestions, one might argue that only soul mated bond mates should attempt time travel because the bond would protect the time traveler from the well-known paradoxes. It would be impossible for soul mated bondmate to marry his or her own grandfather, and further if said grandfather were killed then somehow the bond would protect the time traveler from disappearing altogether. This is, of course, patently absurd.'"_

.

.

**FP/HG/GP**

.

.

"There you are," Fabian said cheerfully, wandering into the room he shared with Gideon at Prewett's Folly. He felt a small possessive thrill that she was curled up on his bed, and sat down on the end, his fingers caressing her calf. "Hermione?"

"Yes?" She glanced toward him, her amber eyes thoughtful.

"What are you doing in here, love?" Gideon asked curiously, following Fabian into their room. He reached out to touch the curve of Hermione's cheek and she leaned into his hand.

"Thinking," she said absently.

"What about?" Fabian pressed. Hermione blinked and frowned.

"Many things, actually," Hermione said after a moment. "Why was my family destroyed? Or rather, who did it? I mean, I know why—someone wants me gone. However, who really knows who I am? It's rather a short list, you know. Then, all the older wizards, the ones who've been meeting with Aug-er-mother are all dead in my time. Why? Who wants all of those older, more powerful wizards dead? Is it the same person who wants me gone, or a different person? That makes me wonder about other things. Next year, there were a lot of murders—a whole rash of them, actually, and all of those murdered were powerful wizards and witches."

"Wow," Fabian muttered, his face pale. "Those are many things."

"You know, love, we're part of this—you can always talk to us," Gideon said quietly, his eyes on Hermione's face.

"I know," she agreed with a sigh. "I just…I'm not used to relying on anyone…ever."

"What about your best friend…that Harry bloke?" Gideon asked with a slight frown. Hermione smiled slightly and shook her head.

"Harry relied on me," Hermione said softly. "I had to be strong for him. He had so few people he could trust."

"So he relied on you and you relied on yourself?" Fabian asked slowly, a frown identical to his twin's on his face.

"When you say it like that…," Hermione's face looked wistful and sad. She shrugged after a moment. "Yes."

"Hermione," Gideon began and then stopped, his dark blue eyes watching her. He sighed and pulled her into his arms. She came unresisting and curled against his chest. Fabian moved to sit close to him so that they could both cuddle her. "The questions you're asking are the difficult ones. The answers you seek may only raise more questions."

"I know," Hermione murmured into Gideon's chest. Fabian stroked her hair absently as he thought. She turned toward Fabian and pulled him close for a toe-curling kiss. "Thank you."

"For what, love?" Gideon asked with good humor. Hermione smiled at him and pulled him to her for a kiss so hot he thought it might have melted the bed beneath them.

"For listening to me, for believing me, for understanding me, for just being there," she said softly.

"You make it easy, love," Fabian said sincerely. She blinked owlishly at him and nibbled on her lower lip.

"Jean? Dear? Aug-your mother's on the floo and she sounds fairly upset," Ginevra Prewett called up the stairs. Hermione's eyes widened and Gideon and Fabian followed her downstairs. Augusta Longbottom's worried face was clearly visible in the floo, and Hermione hurried toward her.

"What's wrong?" She asked, fear making her sharper than she normall would be with her adopted mother.

"Moody's here, he needs to speak with you right away," Augusta explained. "Can you come through now?"

"Of course," Hermione said instantly. She looked to Ginevra who smiled understandingly and nodded. She stepped through as soon as Augusta moved away from the fireplace. Fabian and Gideon followed her instantly, flanking her protectively.

"There you are," Moody growled impatiently. Hermione shifted in front of them and became the warrior that trained the marauders almost instantly. It wasn't an actual physical change, it was the way she held herself, the way she looked at a person. Moody grunted in approval and Fabian and Gideon rolled their eyes at one another.

"What's happened?" Hermione demanded. Moody didn't wait, or draw out the tension. He left that up to others.

"Someone's stolen one of the Horcruxes," Moody snapped. Hermione jerked slightly, her eyes widening in horror. Then she frowned, her brows drawing together.

"Which one?" She asked after a moment.

"The ring," Moody growled irritably. Hermione sighed, and closed her eyes. He thought he heard her mutter something under her breath, but he wasn't sure.

"Well, if I were you, I would call a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione said flatly. "That ring was cursed. Whoever stole it has probably touched the ring, maybe attempted to put it on, and if they have the curse will already have taken effect. The one who has betrayed us all will betray him or herself with a blackening hand."

"You know who it is already, don't you?" Fabian said with certainty. Hermione shrugged, her eyes on Moody.

"You haven't made any Unbreakable Vows lately, have you?" She asked cautiously. Moody gave a rusty chuckle.

"Not hardly, girl. I'm not stupid enough to make an Unbreakable Vow with anyone," Moody said flatly. Hermione looked relieved. She turned a sharp eye on her wizards.

"No, ma'am," Gideon said firmly, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. She snorted at him.

"So, you want to call this meeting to show everyone else that this person, whoever they are, has betrayed the Order as a group?" Fabian asked carefully. He received a warm smile and a fierce kiss.

"You know, I would have taken a much deeper interest in strategy if that was how it was taught," Gideon murmured to his brother. Fabian snickered.

"Somehow the idea of Great-Uncle Fergus rewarding us with kisses doesn't thrill me quite the same way," Fabian teased. Gideon rolled his eyes.

"No, not Great-Uncle Fergus, you git," Gideon said dryly.

"I'll call it for tomorrow night," Moody said flatly. Hermione nodded.

"We'll be ready," she said firmly.

"I know you will, girl," Moody said with an approving look in his eye.


	12. Out of the Frying Pan

_A/N: Right, so there's groveling due. This is me groveling for forgiveness. Picture me: I'm on my knees, hands clasped to my chest, big eyes beseeching you for mercy, lower lip quivering helplessly. I know that it's been awhile since I updated this story, and I'm very, very, very sorry. I've been thinking about it, and talking to my beta, liz_the_dragon, about it. Mostly it's been ping-ponging ideas around. That and I actually participated in one of those exchange thingies, and I was stressing hardcore about that (and forcing innocent betas to read smut and then tell me how they felt about it). I've never done one before, and I have a pathological fear of fubar-ing it all up. I'm still pretty convinced that I did just that._

"Ready, love?" Gideon asked softly. Hermione was standing in the loose circle of his arms, and he lightly ran his hands down her arms while he spoke into her ear. He could hear her swallow convulsively and nod.

"We'll be with you the entire time," Fabian reminded her. She nodded again.

"Moody's going to handle the whole thing," Gideon murmured reassuringly. They had all acknowledged that this was going to be a huge blow against the Order, and if it came from an outsider, which Hermione most assuredly was, then no one would believe her. Moody was the logical choice.

The meeting hadn't started yet, and Hermione stayed close to Fabian and Gideon who hovered protectively. Normally, she'd find that sort of behavior irritating, but at the moment she was grateful for it. She didn't want to interact with anyone else, she just wanted this to be over. She already knew what was going to happen, and it was going to be a giant train wreck. Benjy Fenwick was standing in a corner speaking with Remus. Hermione noticed that Remus' eyes continually scanned the room and he seemed to be keeping track of wherever Sirius was in the room. He must be feeling overprotective, too. She shook her head slightly and sipped at the butterbeer that Fabian shoved into her hand. Dumbledore arrived and Hermione felt herself go rigid. She tried to shrink down and hide behind the broad shoulders of her boyfriends.

"Alastor, my friend, what was so important that we had to meet like this," Dumbledore asked cheerfully in a voice that seemed to carry despite its volume.

"Important business," Moody said shortly. They were still waiting for one or two other 'key' people so Hermione retreated to the kitchen and perceived safety. She was standing against the counter, looking out the window when she felt a presence behind her. She whirled, her wand out and fired off an automatic stunner. It bounced harmlessly off of a rather high-level shield.

"Now, Miss Longbottom," Dumbledore said mildly. "Is that anyway to greet your former Headmaster?"

"What are you doing in here?" Hermione demanded, holding her wand tightly in her hand. He blinked mildly.

"I was thirsty," he said calmly. "I came to fetch a glass of water."

Hermione made to move, and faster than she would have thought possible, Dumbledore had cast a binding spell on her. She shot daggers at him with her eyes, but that didn't help her at all as he opened her mouth and shoved potions down her throat. She choked and he rubbed her throat like she was a damn dog or a cat. Unfortunately, that forced her to swallow whatever was pouring down her throat. She glared viciously at him, considering different ways she might kill him. Then she noticed that his left hand was blackened, just as she had thought it would be. She felt triumph fill her. He would be dead inside of a year. Then her stomach lurched and she knew nothing.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

When she woke, it was dark. She sat up and blinked, looking around her in confusion. Wherever she was, it looked completely derelict. She put her hand to her head and moaned. No one came to check on her. She appeared to be in a kitchen. She blinked again. Wasn't she just in a kitchen? She was pretty sure that she had been. She looked around again. No one had been in this kitchen for years. She frowned. She managed to get to her feet, but she felt a little shaky. She found a bathroom where she threw up the contents of her stomach, rinsed out her mouth and stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't know if she looked good or bad because she couldn't quite remember what she was supposed to look like. She saw something glinting on her neck. She tugged at it and pulled it out of her jumper. It was a medallion. It had otters on it. She flipped it over and read the Latin inscription.

"Fortis cadere, cedere non potest," she mumbled slowly. The brave may fall, but cannot yield. She knew the medallion was hers. She knew it was important, it meant something. She tucked it back into her jumper.

A slow, methodical sweep of the entire house left her with more questions and no answers. She frowned and sighed. Leaving the house seemed like a bad idea somehow, but she didn't know where else to go. She couldn't stay here, there was no food, no light, no heat. She went back to the kitchen and almost tripped over a stick that was on the floor. She picked it up and examined it curiously. This stick was important, just like the medallion, she decided. It felt warm in her hands and somehow she knew that sticks normally didn't feel warm in someone's hands. She tucked the stick into her back pocket and wandered toward the living room. The couch looked moth-eaten and uncomfortable, but she curled up on it and slept until morning.

Another day, the sun shining brightly down, and she still wasn't quite sure where she was. The house appeared to be in a nice neighborhood, but she wasn't quite sure how she would know whether or not a neighborhood was 'nice'. She wandered down the street, looking about herself curiously. She was in a village, she decided, and it was picturesque and quaint. She turned down a random street and was walking along, minding her own business when something came whizzing toward her. Reflexes that she didn't know she had made her drop to the ground and roll away from the perceived threat. She had her hands out, spread in front of her and there was a glowing blue ball surrounding her. _Cool! It's like magic!_ A group of children peered over the fence at her.

"Sorry about that," one of them muttered bashfully and ducked his head. "I sort of gave the bludger a bit more oomph than I should have."

"Are you okay?" Asked another one of the children, looking at her with concern in his green eyes. She frowned at him. He looked familiar, but she couldn't remember why.

"I…I think so," she said after a moment.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said and stuck his hand out to her. She frowned at his hand and looked up at him. She cautiously placed her hand in his.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said slowly.

"Kids! Come on in, lunch is ready!" A woman's voice called from the house.

"Do you want to come in and eat?" Harry Potter offered. "It's the least I can do after Neville almost killed you."

"Hey!" Neville complained. She looked at all of the children and considered her options. She found herself nodding.

"I'd like that," she agreed.

Harry took her firmly by the hand and led her into his backyard and into the house. It was a cheerful house, well-appointed and covered with pictures of a large, loving family. She looked around curiously as Harry tugged her toward the dining room. A table large enough to feed at least thirty people groaned under a feast of sandwiches, chips and large slices of watermelon. Harry pulled her to sit down next to him and the children began to inhale the food set before them. A pretty woman with auburn hair and green eyes like Harry moved around the table making sure that all the children were settled. Another woman, with lighter red hair who was a bit plumper moved down the other side of the table. The green-eyed lady paused when she came to her son and stared at her for a moment. Then she turned to Harry.

"Is this a new little friend, dear?" She asked kindly. She bristled at being called anyone's 'little friend'.

"Yup," Harry said and took a bite of his sandwich. His mother frowned.

"She's, er, she's not a _muggle_, is she dear?" His mother asked worriedly. The children all laughed.

"Nope," Harry said.

"Neville almost hit her with a bludger and she made the coolest shield to protect herself," offered a red-headed little boy. He turned to her. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know, I was startled," she answered honestly. Harry's mother tried to smile in a soothing manner, but it didn't soothe her at all.

"Well, what's your name, dear?" Harry's mother asked cautiously.

"I don't know that either," she said thoughtfully. "I've thought about it, but I can't remember anything."

"You can't remember _anything_?" Harry's mother asked, a tinge of horror in her voice. She shook her head.

"Nothing," she said calmly. She supposed she should be sad, or frightened, but she wasn't.

"She's got reflexes like Dad," Harry offered around a bite of watermelon.

"Reflexes like…," Harry's mother trailed off and frowned.

"Lily, dear, I'm so sorry to interrupt, but it's time and I've come to collect Neville," an elderly woman entered the room. She stared at the woman. This woman was important, very, very important.

"Mother," she said slowly. Everyone turned to stare at her. She stood up and took a step toward the older woman. "Mother."

"Excuse me?" The older woman said sharply, frowning. She ran to the woman and threw her arms around her.

"Mother," she sobbed and suddenly she was crying and she couldn't stop. Harry's mother tried to disengage her, but she clung all the harder to Mother. Finally the older woman knelt down and looked into her face. She frowned.

"What's your name, child," she asked gently. She frowned at Mother.

"I am not a child," she snapped.

"She doesn't know her name," Harry's mother said quietly.

"Who are you?" Mother asked.

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. She pulled out her stick, and she pulled out her medallion. "I have these, but that's all I have."

"Merlin's beard," Mother whispered, her face growing pale. Mother clutched her to her breast and started crying herself.

"Circe's toes," the other woman, with lighter-red hair whispered and stared at the adolescent girl clinging to Augusta Longbottom. Augusta turned and looked at her with anguished eyes.

"Gran?" Neville asked uncertainly. "Who is she?"

"My daughter," Augusta Longbottom said with dignity. Neville's eyes widened.

"That's Aunt Hermione?" Neville said in surprise. "She always sounded older in the stories Dad told."

"She was older," Augusta said with a frown, looking down at her daughter.

"Maybe it's a curse?" Harry's mother suggested with a frown. Augusta frowned.

"I don't know. We'll have to take her to St. Mungo's. Oh! Neville boy, let's hurry! It's time! Come along, Hermione. You'll get to meet your latest niece or nephew," Augusta told her daughter. Hermione nodded and slipped her hand into Mother's.

St. Mungo's was a hospital and it was very busy, especially in the maternity ward where Mother brought Neville and Hermione. That was what Mother called her, and it felt right so she assumed that she must really be Hermione. No one paid attention to either her or Neville so they wandered out into the hall. The baby was almost here and everyone was very excited. Neville and Hermione went to sit in the waiting room.

"Are you happy to have a new brother or sister?" Hermione asked curiously. Neville frowned and thought for a minute.

"I guess so," he said at last. He looked at her shrewdly. "Are you really my Aunt Hermione?"

"I guess so," she said with a shrug. "It feels like I'm a Hermione."

"Do you think you're cursed?" Neville asked with avid curiosity.

"Dunno," Hermione replied with a shrug. "I'm not sure what that means."

"This is so weird," Neville said and swung his legs cheerfully.

"And weird is good?" Hermione asked thoughtfully. Neville shrugged.

"It's different," Neville said, "and different can be good."

"Where were we earlier?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"My friend, Harry Potter's house," Neville said. "It's his birthday today, and mine tomorrow, but Mum and Dad were stuck here because of the baby."

"I'm sure they wished they could've been with you, Neville," said Hermione confidently. She wasn't sure how she knew that, she just did.

Side by side they sat and they talked among themselves about anything and everything. Neville was in the middle of a lengthy description of Quidditch, the game she had inadvertently interrupted when two red-haired men skidded into the maternity ward. They were out of breath and their faces looked…Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen that expression on anyone's face before. It made her uncomfortable, and she couldn't figure out why. These men were important, like Mother. They were very, very important, but she couldn't remember why. They turned toward Neville and converged on him.

"Neville! Where's your grandmother?" One of them panted.

"She's in with Mum and Dad," Neville said calmly. The red-haired men bolted into the rooms and he turned to Hermione. "D'you want to go get something to drink? I know where the cafeteria is."

"Okay," Hermione said with a shrug. She stood up and followed Neville down the hall.

The cafeteria was large and spacious, and Hermione followed Neville to the counter. There was a dizzying array of drinks available and she stared at the board for several minutes. She nibbled on her lower lip for a moment and then turned to Neville.

"I don't have money," she said with a slight frown.

"That's fine," Neville said with a shrug. "You're my Aunt Hermione and it's a wizard's duty to protect and guard his family."

"Okay, well, um, can I have a cup of tea? Black, please?" Hermione said politely to the woman behind the counter who smiled indulgently at her.

Neville and Hermione were waiting for their drinks when the red-haired men appeared in the cafeteria. Hermione watched them hurrying toward her. They stared at her in shock for several minutes, and then looked at one another.

"Hermione?" One of them asked weakly as though he hoped that she would say no.

"I think so," she replied. Both of them blanched slightly and then crouched down so that they were eye-level with her.

"What happened to you?" One of them asked. She frowned.

"I don't know," she said cautiously. Then she smiled cheerfully. "I recognized Mother, though, so that's good."

"Do you recognize us?" The other one asked. She looked very carefully at him. He had dark red hair and clear blue eyes. He was very handsome, she decided. She knew that she should know him, but she couldn't think of how or why. Then something occurred to her. She pulled out the medallion and showed it to them. He made a choking sound and Hermione could see that he was trying very hard not to cry. The other one looked odd, like he'd been hit in the face. Stunned, that was the word. He looked stunned.

"Hermione," he whispered, and he reached out to touch her, but he stopped himself before he did.

"Mother says I might be cursed, but Neville's mum and dad are having a baby," Hermione told them earnestly. They stared at her.

"Your mother said that it would be all right for us to take you and have you checked for curses," One of them said. Hermione turned to look at Neville.

"Do you think that's okay?" She asked cautiously. He shrugged.

"Professor and Professor Prewett are okay," Neville said firmly. Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"Then I shall go with the Professors," Hermione said calmly. She slipped a small hand into each of their larger ones and they stared at her.

"Let's go then," One of them muttered. They went to the front desk and looked over the floor guide.

"Third floor," Hermione said suddenly. The Professors Prewett turned to stare at her. They knelt down to look into her eyes.

"Potion poisoning?" One of them asked in surprise. She nodded.

"I—yes, potion poisoning," she said firmly. They shrugged and took her to the third floor.

"Yes?" The lady at the front desk asked politely. The Professors moved to the desk.

"Our betrothed here has been poisoned with potions," One of them informed the lady. Hermione watched the woman's eyes widen with surprise and watched her stare at her.

"This little girl?" The lady asked cautiously. Hermione glared at her and stamped her foot.

"I am not a little girl!" She yelled at the lady across the desk. The Professors made sounds that sounded a lot like choked laughter. The lady looked surprised, but she wasn't fazed.

"All right, dearie. Have a seat and fill out this form," the lady informed her. She snatched the clipboard and marched over to a seat.

"Um, what's my name?" She asked one the Professors. They turned and stared at her.

"It's Hermione Longbottom," one of them said softly. She scrawled that carefully, holding the quill carefully.

"Okay, what's my address?" She asked curiously.

"Longbottom Estate."

"Oh, well that's handy, isn't it?" Hermione murmured to herself. She filled in all the paperwork with their help and then took it back to the lady at the desk. She glanced at the paperwork and glared at them.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" She snapped. Hermione blinked in surprise.

"No," she said cautiously. "I really have been poisoned."

"Look," snapped one of the Professors. "I'm Fabian and this is Gideon Prewett. She really is our betrothed, and she really has been poisoned. So get a damn mediwitch and get someone to help her NOW!"

"Can I help you?" A gentle looking man asked politely. She turned to him.

"I hope so," she said brightly. "I've been poisoned with potions."

"Ah, what kind?" The healer asked curiously. Hermione frowned.

"I don't know," she said slowly. The healer frowned.

"You don't know?" He echoed. She frowned and thought about it really, really hard.

"I think I was choking and someone rubbed my throat to make me swallow. I was mad…very, very mad…but I couldn't move," she said slowly and carefully. She didn't know how she knew this, she just did. She remembered choking on the potion, she remembered a hand, rubbing at her throat and the feeling of being furious and helpless.

"I see," the healer said thoughtfully as he made notes. "What color was it? What did it taste like?"

"Um, I think it may have been purple, and it tasted like minty pumpkin juice," she said with a moue of distaste. The healer's eyebrows rose. He made more notes.

"Fascinating," he murmured. He looked over his notes for a moment. "I think we'll have to check you in. It will be a bit before we're able to determine what we'll be able to do to help you. Are you really Hermione Longbottom?"

"I think so," she said thoughtfully. "So does Mother."

"Well, Mr. and Mr. Prewett, we will take very good care of your betrothed," the healer said with a kindly smile. The Professors looked at one another and then looked back at the healer.

"That's a wonderful sentiment, but we're staying with her," Gideon said flatly. At least, she was pretty sure it was Gideon. She smiled at him. She liked the idea of him staying with her. And Fabian of course. She felt better just having them near.

"We've just found her again, we sure as hell aren't letting her out of our sight," added Fabian.

"Very well," the healer said with a sigh. "Let's find you a room."


	13. Reclamation

Potion poisoning was a very serious affair. That's what everyone kept telling her. After Alice had Neville's little sister, Beatrix Augusta, Frank had come up with Mother to see her. He'd cried and hugged her and told her how much they'd missed her. Apparently her family had been convinced that Dumbledore had killed her somehow. Frank had brought a small penseive and shared his memories of Mother storming the Wizengamot, demanding restitution for the attempt on her family. She knew Mother could be scary, but the power and magic that had literally crackled around Augusta Longbottom that day had been impressive. Lesser men had cowered before the fury of a mother whose child had been stolen from her. Frank and Mother had both said that the Wizengamot had been absolutely horrified at the attempt on a pureblood family by one of its own members. Dumbledore was completely stripped of rank and privileges. Mother had cast a dark look at her, and muttered that that had been too good for him. Fabian and Gideon Prewett had returned every day to sit and stare at her. They said little and acted as though they were afraid to touch her, but they came every day. Hermione both dreaded and longed for their visits. She felt better when they were there, but her heart ached for the sadness that was in both men's eyes.

"Here's the last of it, love," her medi-witch said cheerfully, holding out a vial of some potion of a truly hideous shade of green. Hermione gagged slightly as she drank it, but she managed to choke it down. They'd been purging her system for a week now. The healer thought that if they could completely purge her system, it might help with some of her symptoms.

"It tastes awful," Hermione complained, gagging a bit more. "How exactly is that supposed to help me?"

"Just lie down dear," the medi-witch said firmly, "if we can get the last of those toxins out of your system, I think we'll see some changes."

"If you say so," Hermione muttered under her breath, but she laid down and glared at the ceiling for a bit. Eventually, her eyes closed and she fell asleep. She woke later when she heard a strange thumping noise. She jerked awaked, her eyes scanning the room warily. She spotted the source of the thumping noise almost immediately.

"Hello, sir," she said quietly. He looked at her for a few minutes and then sat down near her bed.

"I see you remember, the healer was right about that much," Moody growled at her.

"You came to see me earlier," Hermione remembered aloud.

"Aye, but you didn't remember me, so I waited," Moody agreed. Hermione nodded.

"Are you here to brief me, sir?" Hermione asked curiously. He grunted at her.

"Always were too clever for your own good," he grumbled at her. "Yes, that's exactly why I'm here."

"Well?" Hermione demanded impatiently.

"What do you remember?" Moody asked quietly, taking out his notebook.

"We were going to do the meeting, to see who'd stolen the Horcrux," Hermione said slowly. "Fabian and Gideon were being encouraging and supportive, as always. I was nervous, so I slipped into the kitchen. I don't think anyone saw me leave."

"No," Moody confirmed, grimacing slightly. "We thought the kitchen was completely empty so when Dumbledore said he wanted a glass of water before we began, I didn't think anything of it. Apparently, he thought that you were the only one with the information. That if he got rid of you, the chain was broken."

"Unfortunately, that was a false presumption," Hermione said quietly. Moody frowned at her over his notes.

"The rest of that meeting was almost a debacle. Frank, Fabian and Gideon and your boys were throwing a fit when you couldn't be found. Wanted to call off the meeting and look for you," Moody said flatly. Hermione sat bolt upright in the bed.

"You didn't let them!" She barked, anger making her eyes glow. Moody shook his head.

"Of course not," he agreed. "The whole point of the meeting had been to reveal a traitor. The whole point of your disappearance was to stop that. We couldn't let him win, so we continued with the meeting. I explained what happened, and demanded that everyone show their hands. Dumbledore refused. We had to hold Fabian and Gideon back at that point. They were convinced that Dumbledore had you locked up somewhere. Your boys weren't much better. They were pretty torn up by Dumbledore's betrayal. They trusted him, you know?"

"I know," Hermione said quietly. She'd actually dreaded that part quite a bit. She had been afraid that the Marauders would blame her for Dumbledore's actions and that she'd lose her new found friends.

"It almost tore the Order apart," Moody told her flatly, "but Fabian and Gideon and Frank kept it together enough to demand that the rest of the plan be followed through."

"And?" Hermione demanded. Moody smiled at her, and a shiver went down her spine. She decided he was much more friendly-looking when he glowered than when he smiled.

"It worked a treat," Moody said with a great deal of satisfaction. "Voldemort died and his Horcruxes died as well. Did it nice and public, too, so all the damn Death Eaters knew he was dead, just as you said we needed to."

"I wanted to be there," Hermione said mulishly, glaring at the wall.

"Your boys fought for you," Moody said quietly. "They did very, very well and it was all because of your training."

"They all survived?" Hermione asked cautiously. Moody snorted and rolled his eyes.

"They did," he said sourly. Hermione smiled happily.

"Splendid," she said cheerfully.

**FP/HG/GP**

"Now, I'm uncertain as to whether or not this will reverse the deaging potion that you were poisoned with," the healer said uncertainly. "I am still not certain which one was used."

"Probably the rarest, most obscure potion available," Hermione muttered darkly, glaring at the small goblet that smoked ominously. The healer paused and pulled back the goblet slightly.

"Do you think so?" The healer asked urgently, his face slightly pale. Hermione shrugged.

"I wouldn't put it passed him, that's for sure," she said flippantly. He paled even more.

"You can't drink this, then. It might only make matters worse. I shall have to call my contacts in Germany and Hong Kong," he muttered absently as he left the room with the goblet clutched in his hand.

"Don't mind me," Hermione called after him, "I'm just going through puberty again. No worries!"

"Dear I do wish you wouldn't taunt the hospital staff," Mrs. Longbottom scolded as she entered the room. "They are trying to help, after all."

"And yet here I am, the equivalent to twelve years old," Hermione replied irritably.

"You've got your memory back, that's something," her mother soothed, patting her hand.

"I suppose, except my betrotheds can barely stand to be in the room with me," she groused petulantly.

"Hermione, you must see it from their point of view. You _do_ look to be about twelve years old. They love you, but this isn't exactly easy for them," Mrs. Longbottom pointed out logically.

"Hmph."

"Just try and be patient, dear," her mother said calmly.

"Yes, Mother," Hermione replied absently, not noticing the wide smile that spread across Mrs. Longbottom's face and refused to leave.

"Now, I've brought you some books to read, but make sure that you rest, too, dear," her mother admonished her firmly. Hermione nodded eagerly and accepted the books.

Several days later, the healer returned and he looked excited. He'd brought another healer with him, a German healer from his accent, and they both poked and prodded her and asked her several questions. Hermione tried to be patient, she really did, but at the end she just got irritated and began to snap at them.

"I think, young lady, that we might be able to help you," The German healer said thoughtfully.

"With what?" Hermione asked flatly.

"I believe that you can be restored with the Elixir of Truth," the German healer explained. Hermione blinked and then paled.

"You think it was the Draught of Obfuscation?" Hermione asked faintly, her mind rapidly doing calculations. The healers both blinked.

"You know of the Draught of Obfuscation?" Both healers asked in surprise.

"Of course, I hold a mastery in potions," Hermione said calmly. Understanding dawned in both men's faces.

"No wonder the Draught of Obfuscation was used," murmured her healer, Gargle she thought his name was.

"It is likely that you would have been able to figure out anything else," the German healer agreed, "and that was most likely why the more obscure potion was chosen."

"I imagine so," Hermione said quietly, her eyes wide.

"It will be fine, my dear, the Elixir of Truth will remove all of the side effects," her healer soothed, patting her gently.

**FP/HG/GP**

The Elixir of Truth restored Hermione's truth to her. She regained her proper age, and her memories were restored to her. The hospital released her to her family and the Longbottoms took her home. Her first visitors were the Potters and Sirius and Remus. They swamped her, hugging her so tightly that she began to pound on whoever's back was closest (Remus') so that they'd release her a bit and she could get oxygen in her lungs.

"Merlin, Hermione, we thought he'd killed you," Lily had said faintly with wide eyes.

"If your son and my nephew hadn't been playing Quidditch, I might never have found my family again," Hermione said quietly. "The Draught of Obfuscation confuses the victim, takes their memories, and alters their appearance so that family and friends can't recognize them."

"Son of a-," Sirius started to say, but Remus clapped his hand over his boyfriend's mouth.

"Thank you Remus," Lily said with a glance at her son, Harry, who was holding his dad's hand and looking up at Hermione.

"Are you really Hermione Longbottom?" Harry asked in an awe-filled voice. Hermione blinked for a moment and stared at her five year-old best friend.

"Er," she said faintly, her eyes wide. She looked up at James and Lily helplessly.

"Yes, Harry, she really is," Lily said gently.

"Merlin!" Harry said softly, staring at her.

"You know, that happened at the hospital, too," Hermione said with a frown. "Why is everyone acting like my name is something amazing?"

"It sort of is," James said with a slight flush. "Moody told everyone that we wouldn't have been able to destroy Voldemort without you. You're a war heroine Hermione."

"Well, bl-er, shoot," Hermione said with a sigh. "I can't escape that part no matter what."

"If that's the trade off, I'd take it in a heartbeat," Sirius said solemnly, reminding Hermione of her original timeline. She sighed again and nodded reluctantly.

"You're right," she muttered, turning to look at a very young Harry Potter standing with his very much alive mum and dad. "It's totally worth Rita Skeeter dogging my every step until I die."

"Er," Remus said faintly.

"And if she puts an antenna out of line, I'll put her in a jar again," Hermione said to herself.

"Ah," Sirius said, his eyes wide.

"We're so glad that you're all right," Lily confided quietly. "Fabian and Gideon were just heartbroken. It was so awful to watch."

"Speak of the devil," Remus said with a grin, looking behind Hermione. She whirled around and saw Fabian and Gideon coming into the foyer. She started running and then leapt into the air and they caught her perfectly.

"Hermione," they whispered and their arms tightened around her. She snuggled into their embrace and sighed happily.

"Dear, why don't you have your guests come into the blue parlor for tea?" Mrs. Longbottom suggested with a small smile for Hermione.

"Of course, Mother. Would you please join us for tea?" She turned and asked the Marauders. They stared at her for a moment.

"She's acting like a girl," Sirius whispered loudly to James who nodded, a dumbstruck expression on his face. Hermione glared at them.

"I'll have you know that my upbringing was just as rigorous as yours," she said tartly. "Dancing lessons, piano, learning to pour tea properly."

"I never really thought about it," James said mildly. "Lily's always been perfect at everything she does, I just thought it was because they were girls."

"That was an unbelievably sweet answer," Lily said with a suspicious glint in her eyes. James gave her his very best innocent deer face. "I still haven't forgiven you for what you did to my dining room."

"But, Lily-flower," James wheedled.

"Later, Prongsie," Sirius said firmly. "Right now, it's tea-time with a war heroine and her mum."

"True," James said with a sigh.

**FP/HG/GP**

_They each took one of her small hands and tugged gently as they hiked up the hill in the dark. Once they crested the hill, Hermione could see a number of little glowing, floating lights clustered next to a large body of water, most likely a lake. She paused for a moment, and the Prewett twins tugged on her hands again. She moved forward, and as they drew closer she realized that it was some sort of picnic. She could see a large blanket spread out on the shore, pillows strewn on the blanket, and a large basket. Hermione felt her lips curve in a pleased smile, and it would not leave her face. Fabian's fingers tightened on her hand and she looked up at him quickly. He was watching her face warily._

"It's perfect," she whispered. "Just like the first time."

Both men relaxed at that and expelled the breath they hadn't known they'd been holding. Being separated from Hermione, believing that she was dead, had been the most horrific five years of their lives. Having her back, knowing that she was alive, was more than they'd hoped for, more even than they had dared to dream. Gideon pulled her to his side and pressed his lips to hers, just to feel the little spark—just to reassure himself that she really was there—but he should have realized that one kiss was never enough with Hermione. Soon he was nibbling her lips and teasing her tongue with his and sucking the spot behind her ear. She moaned against his ear and he had to stop the shudder that swept through him. Fabian was pressed against her back, his lips working their way down her shoulder. He exchanged a glance with his twin and they had their witch naked on their picnic blanket before she realized what they had done.

"You're lucky it's a warm night," Hermione scolded them both, but then there were two pairs of lips worshipping her breasts and she was too busy arching her back and moaning to yell at anyone.

It had been five years for Gideon and Fabian, even if it had only been a month or so for Hermione, so she was willing to overlook their eagerness to, er, well…shag her senseless. Someone's lips and teeth were moving steadily up her thigh and she was pretty sure that it was Gideon. That meant that it must be Fabian who alternating between her breasts and doing amazing things to them. If they maybe, perhaps, got a little too excited during Round One, she was willing to overlook that as well, especially by the time they made it to Round Three.

"Can't move," she complained to Fabian who was tugging insistently on her hand. Couldn't a person just lay there in boneless contentment?

"Love, it's almost dawn," Gideon said quietly. "Your mum already thinks we're wankers, let's not give her any more proof, yeah?"

"I suppose," she grumbled, "but when Mother sees me limping downstairs for breakfast, I think we all know what she's going to think."

"That you were shagged to within an inch of your life?" Fabian offered with a cheeky grin.

"Not really helping," Hermione groused as she tried to climb to her feet. She winced slightly and didn't notice the smug expressions on Fabian and Gideon's faces, which was probably for the best anyway.

"We missed you, love," Gideon said contritely. Hermione glanced at him suspiciously, but he seemed honestly sincere.

"I'm sure you did," she said softly. "I—I can't even imagine thinking that you, that either one of you, had died. And then, five years without you, Merlin, I'd probably be mental. I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Hermione," Fabian said firmly. "You didn't do anything, Dumbledore did."

"You should know, though, now that you're back we're pretty much going to hang about constantly," Gideon said firmly.

"We thought about bringing up the 'M' word, but it always makes you so twitchy," Fabian said thoughtfully. Hermione rolled her eyes at them.

"There's no need to be drastic. I could always move into Prewett Manor with the two of you," Hermione said calmly. Fabian and Gideon stared at her for a moment.

"Hermione, darling, don't you love us?" Fabian asked with a wounded expression.

"Well, of course I do," Hermione said in surprise.

"Do you _know _what your mother would do to us, if you moved in with us without a wedding?" Gideon demanded, a look of horror tinged with fear upon his face.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione protested. Both men snorted at her.

"Right, because _we're_ being the ridiculous ones," Fabian muttered drily.

"Your mother is a former dueling champion," Gideon reminded her, "with a fanatic sense of devotion to her family. She was just torn when you went missing. Blamed herself, didn't sleep well, kept having nightmares about your death. It was pretty bad. Not to mention Frank and Alice. They both adore you, and they were so upset. You can't do that to them. I know it seems stupid and silly to you, but to us it isn't."

"I never said it was stupid or silly," Hermione said quietly, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"You didn't have to, love," Fabian informed her. "It's in your body language and your word choices. We know you're not actively insulting our culture and upbringing and so does your mother."

"No, of course not!" Now Hermione looked horrified.

"Excellent, so will you be okay with getting married in six months?" Gideon asked cheerfully.

"What?!" Hermione squeaked. Fabian frowned at her.

"Well, I suppose we could make it sooner," he said cautiously. "Would next weekend be okay?"

"No," Hermione practically shrieked, "six months is much better."

"Very well, six months from now," Fabian said, making a note.

"I can't believe you tricked me!" Hermione shrieked. Gideon smiled winningly.

"Can't you?" He asked, looking at her with those deep, blue eyes. She frowned at him.

"No, I can," she admitted sourly.

"Well, then, poppet, what's the problem?" They asked her in unison. She groaned and clutched her head.

"I feel a headache coming on," she muttered, glaring at them through her fingers, "a six-month headache."

"You're only punishing yourself," Gideon observed self-righteously.

"I'll tell you what, Hermione," Fabian said quietly, "we'll marry you, but you can call us your boyfriends and pretend we're living in sin. I can even have Aunt Muriel call you a painted hussy or a two-knut whore, if you want?"

"Would you really do that for me?" Hermione asked softly, looking at Fabian adoringly.

"Anything for you, love," Gideon said firmly.


	14. Epilogue

"Look, it's Auntie Jean!" Bill and Charlie were yelling. They ran toward Hermione and almost knocked her to the ground.

"I thought her name was Hermione," Fred whispered loudly to George.

"Maybe it's an alias," George suggested. "Aunt Hermione was in the war, maybe it's her super-cool spy name."

"It's mostly to drive Aunt Muriel crazy," Hermione said gravely to the twins who accepted this as a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Oh, well that's all right then," they said with wide grins.

"We missed you, Auntie Jean," Bill said with a frown. She hugged him tightly and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I missed you, too, Bill," Hermione said firmly. She hugged and kissed Charlie, and she grabbed Percy who was lurking to the back and pulled him forward to hug and kiss him as well. "Oh, I missed all of you. Well, not Ron and Ginny because they weren't born yet, but the rest of you for sure."

"Come and see Mum," Bill urged her, tugging on a hand. "She's been going mental since Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon flooed to tell us you were coming."

Hermione entered Prewett's Folly a little nervously, uncertain of her reception, but she shouldn't have worried. Molly almost attacked her, hugging her and crying on her. Hermione patted her back awkwardly and threw a horrified glance at Fabian and Gideon who shrugged helplessly and tried to extract their witch from their sister's clutches. Ginevra and Cincinnatus both gave her fierce, tight hugs. The Prewett family, which included the Weasleys, had already considered Jean MacDougall family and they were devastated when Fabian and Gideon's fiancée had gone missing during the war. So many wizards and witches were disappearing or being murdered that it was an incredibly frightening time for everyone.

"Fabian and Gideon explained about you needing to use a different name for the work you were doing," Ginevra said quietly, with a gentle pat on Hermione's arm.

"So what does Hermione Longbottom, the real betrothed of my sons _actually_ look like?" Cincinnatus Prewett asked curiously. Hermione blushed and removed the glamor.

"You're even prettier this way Auntie Jean," Charlie said loyally. Fabian looked at his nephew with a speculative eye.

"Are you trying to steal our witch?" He asked Charlie. The boy blushed bright red and shook his head.

"Oh Fabian, don't tease him," Hermione said firmly. She smiled sweetly at Charlie and he smiled shyly back.

The afternoon passed pleasantly for everyone and it gave Hermione the opportunity to catch up on everything that had happened while she was gone. She had remembered that Fabian and Gideon were now Professors, but she hadn't thought to question that. Her betrotheds were team teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Bill and Charlie both chattered about how great they were. Hermione was proud of both of her wizards, and she knew that she was most likely responsible for their decision to make sure that there were no more half-trained wizards like the group of boys she'd tried to train. It made sense to her, too. As Fabian and Gideon had explained, battle magic was the specialty of the Prewett family. Magical warriors such as they made for the logical choice for DADA professors. Headmaster McGonagall had evidently felt the same way. That was weird, even to think in her head let alone say it out loud: Headmaster McGonagall.

Mother had already filled in the other information. Her brother Frank and her sister-in-law Alice had gone back to the Aurors and had been instrumental in the Final Battle where they believed they were exacting vengeance for her death. Her boys, the Marauders, had fought well and had proven themselves a thousand times over. Sirius and James were well-respected Aurors. Sirius and Remus lived together in a house that Uncle Alphard had paid for, and Remus worked on Werewolf legislation. Harry Potter was a happy, carefree little boy who had grown up on stories about his famous godmother, Hermione Longbottom. That had been another shocker: she was Harry Potter's godmother. Following that little nugget of information, Sirius had felt it necessary to waggle his eyebrows at Hermione and make several ridiculous comments about their shared status.

"So, Hermione," Molly was saying with a wide smile. Hermione blinked and tried to look as though she'd been paying attention the entire time. "How do you feel about the garden right here at Prewett's Folly?"

"Oh, I think it's lovely," Hermione said firmly. Fabian snorted in amusement and leaned toward her.

"She means for a wedding, love," he explained. Hermione froze.

"Er, you'll have to discuss that with Mother," Hermione said faintly. "I believe she has very strong feelings about that, and I'd hate to upset her right now."

"I shall invite Augusta to tea," Ginevra Prewett decided firmly. Hermione smiled faintly.

"Wonderful," she murmured politely.

.

.

**FP/HL/GP**

.

.

"Wake up!" Gideon yelled and then he leapt into the bed. Hermione sat bolt upright, her eyes wide as she looked at Gideon in shock.

"What in the world was _that_ for?" Hermione demanded tartly.

"Do you feel any different?" Fabian asked curiously. Hermione frowned and then she blushed.

"No," she said after a moment.

"Not oppressed or restricted?" Gideon pressed with a cheeky grin.

"Maybe owned?" Fabian suggested with a dark look in his deep blue eyes.

"Do you feel like chattel?" Gideon asked curiously. Hermione rolled her eyes and hit him with her pillow.

"No," she said firmly.

"That's excellent news, Mrs. Prewett," Fabian said with a smug smile of male satisfaction that Gideon echoed.

"I do feel something," Hermione said suddenly, her face taking on a peculiar look. Both Fabian and Gideon looked worried.

"What is it?" They asked urgently.

"I sense…," she paused dramatically, "impending widowhood if you two don't leave me alone and let me get dressed."

"Oh, but love, it's our duty, nay our obligation to help dress you," Fabian protested. Gideon nodded, his eyes on the swell of her breasts.

"Yes, ancient pureblood wedding customs," Gideon said absently as he leaned toward her chest.

"That is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard," she said laughing and then gasping as Gideon acquired his target.

"I am hurt by your insinuations," Fabian said sadly, looking at her with an adorable pout on his lips. She pulled him toward her and kissed him lightly, but it soon degenerated into a hot, deep kiss that seemed to lick along her nerves.

"Oh very well, maybe we could stay in a bit longer," she said once Fabian released her mouth.

"Excellent plan, Hermione," Gideon murmured as his lips strayed down her ribcage.

"Knew she was a smart girl," Fabian agreed before he leaned forward and captured her lips again.

.

.

**FP/HP/GP**

.

.

"Good morning, students. As you know, I am Potions Mistress Prewett, and I shall be your instructor. Please hold your questions until the end. As first years we shall begin with basic theory and gaining an understanding of different ingredients and their reactions to one another. How many of you are familiar with muggle Chemistry? Excellent."

The group of first year students was entranced, just as every year was, Headmistress McGonagall thought with no small amount of irritation. Professor Prewett was an amazing Potions Mistress who should honestly be working in a private research institute somewhere, but because of her handsome husbands she was here, at Hogwarts. Minerva had been nervous at first to hire this young woman that she did not know, but so many recommendations had come to her, from so many different sources that she had had no choice. Not that she regretted her choice. In the ten years since she had originally hired Hermione Prewett, the Potions program had exploded at Hogwarts. Her NEWTs students consistently turned out superior research projects and she had a large number of students who _did_ go on to work at prestigious private institutions. Professor Prewett had been published in _Potions Today_ several times, and she was a feather in Hogwarts cap. Headmistress McGonagall smiled to herself. There was another subtle benefit to having the Prewetts at Hogwarts, especially for her muggleborn students. The Prewett twins were happy to explain why they team-taught to anyone who asked, and they explained the nature of magical twins in a way that made it easy for the students to understand. Then, too, they provided hope for magical twins that they too would be able to find someone who understood their situation and could love the both of them. She knew that many girls had gone to Hermione over the years, to ask her opinion if they happened to like a set of twins, or if a set of twins liked them. She nodded again to herself and slipped quietly out of the potions classroom to continue toward her office.

"Minerva!" A worried looking Augusta Longbottom was hurrying toward her.

"Augusta! What on earth are you doing here?" Minerva asked in surprised.

"The girls are missing," Augusta explained, panic tightening her features.

"And you think they may have come here?" Minera realized. Augusta nodded.

"Of course, they love it here, it's impossible to keep them at the Estate when all of their cousins are here," Augusta said drily.

A feminine giggle drifted from an alcove followed by a shushing noise. Fred and George's heads turned automatically toward the sound. They grinned at one another and crept toward the alcove. On a silent count of three, they grabbed two little girls and pulled them out of the alcove. The girls shrieked and automatically kicked their would-be kidnappers, until they realized that it was their cousins Fred and George. Then they squealed and hugged them. The two seventh years stared at the tops of their eight year-old cousins' heads and then looked at one another.

"Andromache, Hippolyta, does your mum know you're here," Fred asked cautiously.

"No, silly, we're supposed to be at Grandma's house," Andromache said with an imperious sniff. She tossed her dark red hair over her shoulder and looked slightly haughty. Fred and George exchanged another uneasy look. Then they shrugged and grabbed Andromache and Hippolyta and dragged them towards the DADA classroom.

"Nooo!" wailed Hippolyta. "We want to play!"

"You are so mean, George," Andromache said angrily.

"Have you seen your mum on the warpath?" Fred asked pointedly. "That is one scary witch, and I, for one, like all my bits where they are."

Fred and George knocked politely on the door of their Uncles' classroom. Life at Hogwarts with relatives who knew one's tricks could be trying. All the Prewetts' classrooms had special wards to prevent pranking. It was impossible to get one over on Aunt Hermione or Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon. The worst though was the slightly disappointed look on Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon's faces, as though they hadn't tried hard enough or something. This particular class was the fifth year Gryffindors, and they noticed their brother Ron, their Aunt Hermione's godson, Harry Potter, and her nephew Neville Longbottom. That sort of made him their cousin. That's the way they treated him anyhow.

"Fred? George?" Fabian said in surprise, glancing at them. They gave him a shrug and fully entered the room so that they could see the squirming red-headed bundles in their arms.

"Oh for the love of Merlin," Gideon said in a disgusted voice. "Does your mother know you're here?"

Both girls stopped squirming immediately and looked ashamed. Just then the door to the classroom flew open and a panicked Hermione raced in and flew straight to her husbands.

"Mother says that the girls are gone," she panted, clutching Fabian's robes. Fabian's arms automatically came around her and he patted her soothingly.

"They're right there," he said, nodding toward Fred and George who still had a firm grasp on each girl who now looked slightly scared and penitent.

"Hey, Auntie Jean," George said cheekily. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and sighed.

"Thank you both," she said quietly. They released the girls and left the classroom quietly, pleased to have escaped the wrath of Aunt Hermione, which was just as bad as their Mum's. Then she turned her gaze on the red-headed girl twins who gulped nervously and stared at their mum.

"Class dismissed," Fabian and Gideon said in unison. The fifth years took the chance to kip out early eagerly and soon it was just the Prewetts in the DADA classroom.

"You frightened your grandmother," Hermione said quietly, watching her daughters. They sighed and scuffed the floor with their shoes. "I can only assume there is an amazing reason for that, and I now wait with bated breath to be educated."

"We," Andromache began and looked at Hippolyta who nodded firmly. "We missed you, all of you."

"You'll be here soon enough, little loves," Fabian said gently. "And then you'll wish that you were at home."

"But," Hippolyta said hesitantly. Hermione sighed heavily and crouched down so that she was at eye level with her daughters.

"Grandmother Longbottom loves you both very much," Hermione said gently. "It would kill her if either one of you were hurt. Please don't run away from her again."

"Yes, Mummy," the girls said in unison.

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**FP/HP/GP**

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"Hurry up, Harry!" Andromache called urgently. Harry hurried down the hall, skidding slightly on the carpet and swearing under his breath.

As a boy, he'd never looked twice at his godmother's pretty daughters with their dark red hair and their deep blue eyes, but all of that had changed when they'd come back from a couple of years abroad doing research potions work in Russia. Andromache and Hippolyta Prewett had grown into incredibly beautiful women whose features were a blend of their mother and their fathers. They'd also been the most ridiculously well-protected witches in the British wizarding world. They had eight male cousins when you put together the Weasley boys and the Longbottom boys; added to that were their two dads, two uncles, and almost the entire Auror department who was made up of people who knew and liked Hermione including his dad and his dad's friends. The girls had almost been forced out of country so they could date in peace. Unfortunately, they suffered the same problem that many magical twins suffered until they'd returned and run into their mother's godson at a family function. They'd known the moment they'd seen him, and they'd told their mother that night. Poor Harry had never had a chance.

"Harry!" Andromache's voice sounded slightly panicked and Harry hit his shoulder painfully on the doorjamb as he hurtled himself into the room.

"I'm here!" He gasped, the bag slung over his shoulder. Hippolyta was sitting on the edge of their bed and her face looked strained and pale. She got to her feet carefully, and Harry was instantly at her side, supporting her with an arm around her waist.

They arrived at St. Mungo's and Harry and Andromache steered Hippolyta toward the maternity ward. His wife was breathing with a curious focus and determination, her pale face filled with concentration. A slender healer with black hair pulled back into a utilitarian braid and clear grey eyes smiled at them. Hermione Black-Lupin had been named in honor of her godmother, and had grown up as part of the extended family that was comprised of the Potter, Black, Lupin, Prewett, Longbottom and Weasley families.

"Thank Merlin it's you, Junior," Harry said with a sense of relief. Her lips tightened slightly.

"I really hate that nickname," she muttered at him. He grinned at her. He knew that, that had been why he'd used it. Then she looked at Hippolyta and her professional side came to the front. "Let's get you into your room, Hippolyta."

"This is all your fault, you bastard!" Hippolyta screamed at him. Andromache waved at him and he retreated to the waiting area where his dad was grinning cheerfully.

"It seems only yesterday your mum was screaming the same thing to me," he confided quietly. Sirius and Remus looked slightly nervous. They'd never had to scream anything at one another. They had hired a very nice surrogate to carry Hermione for them.

"I'm just going to go in for a moment," Hermione murmured absently. Fabian and Gideon exchanged fond looks and they each pressed a kiss to her brow.

"Mum," Hippolyta said faintly as she panted through a contraction.

"You're doing splendidly, 'Lyta," Andromache said softly, her gentle hands kneading the muscles in her twin's back.

"Harry left," Hippolyta said, sounding forlorn. Hermione hid a smile.

"I think he feared for his life," she said quietly as she smoothed the damp hair off of her daughter's forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Idiot," Hippolyta said with a snort. Andromache rolled her eyes from the safety of her position. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, Andromache Potter!"

"I'll just go get Harry," Hermione murmured with a small smile for both girls.

Charlus James and Cincinnatus Sirius were possibly the most beautiful little boys in the world. Lily and Hermione agreed that it was so, and no one dared to oppose them. Each proud grandmother held one of her precious grandsons and each woman had a small cluster of men surrounding her. Harry, James, Sirius and Remus were cooing gently over Lily's shoulder and Fabian and Gideon were gazing with misty-eyed wonder at their grandson in Hermione's arms.

"Still mad that we married you?" Fabian whispered gently so as not to wake his grandon.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said with a sniff. Then she smiled at the small bundle in her arms and felt her heart swell in her chest.

_Finis_

_A/N: In case you're wondering, the girls were named after Amazon Queens. I thought it was fitting with my perception of the Prewett family as fighters. (In my defense, Fabian and Gideon are both warriors. Fabian was a Roman warrior and Gideon was biblical.)_


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